


End of the Road

by katieh28



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Protective Derek, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9212492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katieh28/pseuds/katieh28
Summary: 30 year old truck driver Derek Hale is on a trip to see his estranged father in Boston one last time before he dies. What Derek never expected, however, was for what was supposed to be a quick last visit and nothing more turning into the most important journey of his life. On the road he finds a severely injured teenager on a mission of his own, a boy like no one else he'd ever known in his life. What was supposed to be an easy, meaningless trip turned into one of sacrifice, forgiveness, self discovery, and possibly, maybe, love.----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Two people, forever controlled by their past, finally get the chance to rewrite it.





	1. Chapter 1

The greatest tragedy of all, his aunt once told him, was a boy growing up without a father.

He was 8 years old, chubby cheeked and wide eyed, when his Aunt Rachel had looked down at him and said Those Words.

_He'll never learn how to be a man_ , she had said. _He'll never know nothing_.

Derek adjusted himself in the driver's seat, tried to refocus his attention on the road. He was still a solid 80 hours away from Boston, and that was only if he never stopped along the way. That was only if he never took a break, just kept going, going, going.

_Don't say that_ , his mother had said. _Not in front of him_.

_But aren't you worried about him? A boy needs a father, Anne. Especially an Alpha_.  

_He's going to be just fine_ , his mother had said.

He's going to be just fine.

Derek turned up the radio, prayed to whatever God was out there to get these stupid thoughts out of his head. The last thing he needed to do right now was worry, but worrying seemed to be all he could do these days.

He really shouldn't have been so screwed up about it. But it was normal for a kid to be nervous about seeing their father again, right? It had been 20 years, goddamn it.

21, actually, his brain supplied.

Screw you, Derek said to his brain. Shut the Hell up, why don't you.

But his brain was right. It had been 21 long years without his father. Not that it bothered him, not that it bothered him at all. Not that he had any trouble making it on his own. Derek had a good life now. It was fine, really. He made a living in an honest way, and that was more than he could say for his dear old pops, wasn't it?

Derek forced himself to clear his head and kept driving. He took in his surroundings, the endless forest along the highway. So many goddamn trees up this way, he thought. Too many goddamn trees.

The sky wasn't nearly as clear or as blue as it was in California, not even close. Not like in Southern California, where Derek and his mother lived, where weather was tropical nearly year round and Derek didn't even need to own a jacket- a thin sweatshirt or two for the winter was just fine.

It was so cold and dark this way, Derek thought. He was driving northward, but it felt like he was descending. He felt a sinking feeling in his gut, an incomparable dread. It wasn't something he could understanding, nothing he could clearly articulate into words, but he felt like he was on his way to some doom, some Bad Thing. The Bad Thing didn't have a name as of yet, but Derek could feel it.

Or maybe he was just crazy.

Derek blasted the radio now, really blasted it, and the irony wasn't lost on him when "Highway to Hell" came on full blast, loud enough to shatter an eardrum.

This is a bad omen, he thought to himself with a scowl. A sure sign of The Bad Thing to come. Something Bad, something horrible. He could feel it.

Derek looked at himself in the mirror then. He could almost laugh at his own appearance, how much he looked like a typical poster-boy for some teen girl magazine. He looked over his own reflection, saw the chiseled jaw, the dark sunglasses, the bulging muscles in his neck and arms. _Ridiculous_ , he thought. _You're ridiculous, Hale. Do you think this changes anything, Der? You think you're a man now, don't you?_

The chorus to the song came over the radio, blasted through the car, and Derek found himself singing along. Well, not as much singing as belting, screaming. _Highway to Hell is right, motherfuckers. No stop signs, speed limit. Nobody's gonna slow me down._

The sky was beginning to get dark now. It was only 4:00, and there was already a darkness starting to set in. So much fucking darkness, Derek thought. It was fucking everywhere, wasn't it.

Derek kept singing, Highway to Hell baby. _Hey mama, look at me. I'm on my way to the promised land-_

The words caught in his throat, his breath caught in his chest as he jammed his foot on the break pad just in time.

The car came to a violent stop, and as soon as his head stopped spinning Derek thanked the Lord almighty. The last thing he needed right now was to hit some poor innocent animal that ran out into the street. That was the last thing he needed. As if his bad karma wasn't already high enough.

Derek Hale lived his life by a simple motto. _What Goes Around Comes Around, Motherfucker_. That was why he only swore in his head, why he didn't run over innocent animals on the street.

That was why he did what he did. That was why he was going to visit his father now, that was the real reason. Not because that bastard deserved it.

What Goes Around Comes Around, the most important lesson he'd ever been taught. Don't forget your past, because that shit always comes back to haunt you.

Derek kept his foot on the break pad, letting the creature go on it's merry way. It was getting dark, and he couldn't truly see what it was, but the thing seemed pretty big. Maybe a deer or something.

Derek waited and waited, but the thing wouldn't budge. Derek honked at it, yelled out the car window, but the stupid animal just stood there, it's legs shaking like a leaf.

"Come on, move it! Let's go!" Derek shouted out the window, getting exasperated. He didn't care if the damn thing didn't hear a word he said. He had places to be, had a father to see before it was all Too Late.

The animal just stood there, silent, shaking harder now. He thought he heard a noise like a whine.

Derek rolled his window down, gentler this time. "Hey buddy, can you move out of the way for me?" he asked. "Don't be scared. I'm not going to hurt you."

Derek rolled up his window and pressed his face into the steering wheel. _Hey, buddy_? Had Derek Hale just been talking to a fucking woodland creature?

Derek sighed. _WWAD_ , he reminded himself, one of his personal favorite sayings. _What would an Alpha Do?_

An Alpha certainly wouldn't talk to some little deer-moose thing like he was it's best friend. An Alpha would go up to the thing and haul it's ass out of the way, because Alpha's wait for no one, man or beast.

And yet, Derek felt pity for the thing, a deep sadness in the pit of his stomach.

_Man up, Hale_ , he told himself. _You're an Alpha, goddamn it. You are_.

Derek was about to get up out of his seat and throw the thing back into the woods from which it came, but all of his resolve drained right the fuck out of him as he saw the poor animal collapse right onto the ground. The animal landed so harshly, so violently that a cloud of dirt rose up around it, and Derek could no longer even see a shadow of it in the cold, black darkness of the night.

Derek ran out of the truck as fast as he could kneeling down to where the animal had collapsed so horribly. He felt that feeling in the pit of his stomach again, he felt The Bad Thing all around him, the darkness was closing in.

There was still so much dirt around the thing he could barely see, nothing but the outline of the animal was visible, so he slowly, tentatively reached out to touch the poor thing. It was probably sick, maybe hurt, possibly even dying. Maybe at least he could give the animal some comfort, even just for a moment.

He reached out for it, placing a hand on it's... _shirt?_

Derek drew his hand back uncertainly.

Had he just felt clothing? It certainly wasn't fur, whatever he just touched. 

Maybe he was crazy, but he was pretty sure whatever he felt, whatever was under his hand- it was some kind of...cotton?

Derek just stood there, kneeling beside the thing, impossibly confused and a little hazy. He waited for a sign, a signal, anything.

All of a sudden, the dirt and the dust cleared. Derek peered down carefully, not sure of what to expect, scared of what he might find.

He didn't know what he expected to see. It was dark, and his heart was beating faster than it ever had, and his breathing was erratic, and he felt the complete and utter blackness closing in on him.

But it wasn't The Bad Thing, the Something Terrible he was expecting.

Not at all.

There, in the pile of dirt and dust, was something he'd never seen before.

The darkness was all around him, but now- now there was light.

Derek Hale was without a doubt, 100% certain of what was lying in front of him now, eyes closed, skin as white as the purest snow.

Derek Hale was in the presence of an angel.


	2. Chapter 2

He was in the presence of an angel, without a doubt.

As he peered closer, however, it became clear that it was not just any angel, but a fallen one. A Fallen Angel.

And as he got even closer, it became obvious he was not just in the presence of an angel, either. He was still an angel, no doubt, but he was also a boy.

The boy had the whitest skin Derek had ever seen, and the richest, thickest, most beautiful dark hair. But the perfect hair was caked with dirt, and the beautiful skin was covered in bruises. The boy had blood running down the side of his head from a horribly deep, nasty gash, and his skin was more black and blue than the bright white he had originally seen.

Someone had beaten this boy up, this omega, and they had beaten him badly.

He could tell the boy was an omega right away, could tell by his small, slender frame and the delicateness of his features. Seeing an omega like this, especially a young, defenseless, beautiful one like this boy, infuriated Derek with a rage so powerful that it took all his power not to throw his head back to the sky and scream.

Derek balled his hands into fists, ready to hit something, anything- but no. Now was not the time to go crazy, now was not the time to let his Alpha get the best of him. Right now he needed to focus on getting this poor omega some help, and by the looks of it he would need to do something fast.

He scooped the boy up in his arms, careful with his bleeding head and bruised torso, and gently deposited him into the back of the truck.

The boy whined, fidgeted a little in the seat, but he never said a word.

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_"Derek, baby, can you come in here?"_

_Derek wandered up the stairs, his backpack slung effortlessly over his shoulder. Mrs.Wong didn't assign much social studies homework that night, so he got to leave his textbook in his locker for once. His backpack was much less heavy than it usually was, and all of a sudden he could stand up taller, straighter. For some reason, it felt good._

_Derek practically flew up the stairs, following the sound of his mother's voice until he reached the kitchen._

_He was excited to see her, excited to tell her all about his homework-less Monday, and then he saw her face. He saw her face, and he felt the darkness around him, the badness._

_"Oh, Derek," she sighed, her face a mess of splotchy red skin and dried up tears. "Sit down, honey. We need to have a talk."_

_He noticed Aunt Rachel was in the room, tapping long black fingernails on the windowsill as she half-sat, half-leaned over the kitchen sink. The plants by the sink were wilted, Derek remembered. Just the day before they had been alive and vibrant. How fast it all did change._

_"Der, honey," she repeated, looking as utterly lost as he had ever seen her. Derek felt his heart speed up. This was his Mother, and she was scared. She was Terrified._

_"Yeah mom?" Derek asked, his voice still high and squeaky, long before his Alpha voice had developed. This voice was gentle, squeaky, smaller than a grain of sand._

_"We need to talk about dad," she said, her voice cracking._

_"Is dad okay?" Derek asked, and all of a sudden his mother broke down, sobbing, inconsolable._

_Derek went to hug his mother, but aunt Rachel got there first, her long arms completely enveloping his tiny omega mother. In that moment they were just two alphas, desperate to protect an omega in need. Nothing else mattered. It was a beautiful for a moment, and than aunt Rachel delivered one sentence that sent Derek's world crashing to the ground._

_"Derek, sweetheart. Your father- he's gone."_

_"What do you mean, he's gone?" Derek asked. His green eyes were still large and innocent and uncomprehending, not yet grasping the severity of the situation._

_"What I mean is- your dad's gone on a little trip," Rachel said gently, evenly, the emotionless calm that her Alpha status demanded._

_"When will he be back?"_

_More sobbing, more shaking._

_"I don't know, Der," Aunt Rachel said. "I'm sorry."_

 

Derek didn't know what she was so sorry about, why everyone was acting so strange. Everyone took trips, right? He kind of wished that his dad had gotten the chance to say goodbye to him before he left, but what could one do? William Hale was a busy man.

But Derek's dad was coming back, of course he was. An Alpha always protected his pack; and a man never abandoned his family.

And so Derek waited. Day and night, he waited.

For 20 years, he waited.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Derek drove in silence all through the night, the poor injured omega lying motionless in the backseat.

They drove on like this until the sun was just barely beginning to peak out through the clouds, the sky still pink. Onwards they drove until Derek hit a pothole, and suddenly Derek heard a small, pained gasp from the back of the car.

The small gasp soon turned to hyperventilation, and Derek's heart sped up in his chest.

"Omega," he called out, his deep voice much gentler than it usually was. Still authoritative, of course, but gentle. "Are you having trouble breathing?"

The omega's breathing just got more unstable, more rapid, and when Derek looked in his car's mirror he saw that the boy was eyeing him with a kind of sickening terror that made Derek's heart ache a little.

 _He must think I'm the one who did this to him_. The realization hit Derek like a freight train, and he immediately pulled the car over on the side of the road, craning his neck to see the boy at a better angle.

 Once he stopped the car he could finally get a good look at the boy in the light. What he saw was enough to shatter whatever was left of his heart.

The boy was bleeding from a gaping wound in his forehead, and had a nasty bruise around his eye and on the side of his cheek. What really got him, though- what really pissed him the fuck off- were the dark purple marks around the boy's neck.

It took all of Derek's strength not to dig his claws into the his seat and fucking rip the upholstery to shreds. _But oh how he wanted to_ \- no. This was not the time.

Derek refocused his attention on the omega who was just lying there, stone-still, staring at him, defiant and yet- _resigned_ somehow. Awaiting the next blow.

God, Jesus Christ- _why_?

Derek was brought out of his own head by the sound of harsh breathing yet again. The omega's eyes were transfixed to his, waiting, waiting for something.

_Come on, Hale. Snap out of it. Say something._

"Where are we going?"

It was barely a whisper, so quiet that Derek barely heard it, but there was no fear in his voice.

There were a number of things Derek could've responded with, a million words of comfort and reassurance. A pat on the shoulder, a message that everything was going to be alright.

"We're going to a hospital," he said.

The boy eyed him suspiciously, and Derek couldn't say he blamed him.

"Don't need one," he said simply. "I'm good."

Derek bit his lip, tried to keep his emotions in check.

"You need to see a doctor," he said calmly, coolly. "I don't know what happened to you-"

"-I'll tell you if you want to know."

"-But you need to get checked out. Especially that gash on your head."

"What, this?" the boy asked, pointing to his enormous head wound. "This is nothing. Pass me a cigarette, will you?"

"I don't have any," Derek lied.

"Yes you do," the boy said dismissively. "This place smells like an ash tray. Come on, my big, strong Alpha savior. It'll calm my nerves."

Derek sighed. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled out his pack and shoved it in the direction of the back seat. He didn't miss the way the boy's hand shook as pulled out a Marlboro with long, slender fingers that Derek longed to-

"Thanks," he said simply. "Got a light while you're at it?"

Derek grunted and pulled his lighter out of his pocket, handing it to the omega, reaching around and placing it gently in the boy's hand.

 "Good," he said, giving Derek- was that a _smile?_ "Now I know I can trust you. You'd never give me something I could use as a weapon if you were some old pervert alpha trying to kidnap my ass."

"-What?"

"Stiles Stillinski, thanks for asking."

"I'm gonna take it that that's your name?"

"Yup," he said, placing the now lit cigarette to his lips. "Unfortunately."

"Well, Stiles," Derek said, cheeks growing red, flustered as he had ever been. "I just hope you know- I was just trying to help you. I found you collapsed in the middle of the street and I-"

"Got it," Stiles said. "And thanks for that. Now- is there a Taco Bell around here or something? I'm starving."

"Aren't you in pain?" Derek asked, unable to hide his own sheer confusion. _How was he so calm right now?_ An injured omega in the backseat of some strange alpha's car, completely vulnerable. In Derek's opinion, this kid should be shitting his pants right about now.

The boy just shrugged. "Doesn't hurt much if I don't move. And I'll pay for the tacos, man. I'm good for the cash."

Derek just shook his head, frustration building. "Look- you need to see a doctor. I'm not willing to debate this."

The boy gave him one of the dirtiest looks he had ever seen in his life. "Fine," he said, pouting a little. "But just for the record, you're not my alpha."

If Derek was a moodier alpha, he might've kicked this little twerp's ass into orbit. But instead, he responded with only a terse "I know."

Satisfied, the omega leaned his head back against the seat, groaning a little as he did it. Derek wanted to reach out, to get him a pillow- but no. No way was he gonna turn mushy over some pretty little omega in his backseat. Derek Hale was no bitch.

"Let me guess," he said, wincing as he pressed two fingers to his bruised temple. "You're just itching to find out what happened to me, aren't you?"

"No," Derek replied a little too quickly. "You don't have to tell me anything."

The boy shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said easily, just a little rasp in his voice. "It's pretty good. Quite the story, really. Some Days of Our Lives level shit, if I do say so myself."

Derek could feel his cheeks getting hot. He wanted so badly, more than anything to know what happened to this boy. More importantly, he wanted to find whoever hurt this poor omega and pound him into the ground.

"Am I throwing you off?"

"What- no!" Derek sputtered, spinning around so quickly he felt his neck snap. "What are you talking about?"

"Aww," the boy said with a smirk, and all at once Derek thought he hated him. "You're cute when you're clueless."

"And I repeat," Derek said, losing patience. "What are you talking about, omega?"

"What I'm saying is, I bet you don't come across many omegas like myself."

Derek couldn't say he had. Of course there were plenty of beautiful omegas in the world; boy and girls who could make your head spin, make your eyes pop out of your head and your heart beat out of your chest. But when was the last time he had seen someone as completely, utterly stunning as Stiles?

"You mean as nervy and disobedient as you?" Derek asked, asserting himself as an alpha, as a man. 

Stiles laughed, rolled his eyes. If Derek had any kind of self-respect, he would've put the omega right in his place the second it happened. But instead he just listened, let it happen like the little bitch he was.

"I prefer the term 'confident'. It's a lot more flattering."

"Yeah, well," Derek said. _Damn it_. He was at a loss for words. _What was this stupid omega doing to him_?

"Well, Alpha? Aren't you gonna say something?"

Derek looked back, and the omega was staring right at him, one eyebrow raised. He didn't look scared, not even a little bit. If anything, he looked.... _amused_. Derek all at once could feel the blood rushing through his veins, and he was hot- too hot.

"Well, Alpha? Wolf got your tongue?"

Derek bit his lip, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

"Let's go to fucking Taco Bell."


	3. Chapter 3

Derek pulled up outside of St. Joseph's Hospital, a bag of greasy one-dollar empanadas in his lap and a hyperactive omega in his backseat.

Suffice to say, this was not exactly the trip he planned on having.

"...So you're saying you're _not_ a douchebag," Stiles said incredulously, continuing the asinine conversation for some apparent reason.

"That's what I'm saying," Derek said.

"...But you're name is Derek. Derek motherfucking _Hale,_ " Stiles said, taking a bite of his taco. "I'm sorry, but that's like _the_ douchiest name I've ever heard."

"My apologies."

"No, no," Stiles said, shaking his head. "It's not your fault. It's your parents. I mean, you already had a douchey last name, the least they could've done is give you a non douchey first name."

Derek just shrugged.

"But hey, that's just they way it always goes, isn't it?" Stiles asked. "It's always our fucking parents. I mean- always."

"We're here," Derek said simply, flinging the car door open violently. It was too hot in there all of a sudden, way too fucking hot.

"Yeah, I figured," Stiles said moodily. "I saw the sign. I'm not an idiot, you know."

Derek just shook his head. "My God, are you even an omega?"

Stiles smiled. "Not in the 'prissy little helpless weenie' sense, no," he said.  "But lucky for you and all the creepy alpha pervs out there, 100% omega right here. Ain't biology a bitch?"

Derek felt a shiver as he slammed his door shut.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Derek sat in the waiting room, absentmindedly watching the news on the tiny, muted television.

It was on one of the local news station that Derek watched from time to time, the one that only seemed to hire those pretty blonde omega women. Derek sat back and watched, welcoming the relief from his own thoughts.

Derek sat back and watched a story about a convenience store getting robbed, the oldest woman in the world *finally* dying (she was 106, for Christ's sake), a shooting near the city, a teen omega boy sexually assaulted-

-It was fucking depressing, that's what it was.

Derek picked up the remote and changed the channel. The next channel had one of those family sitcoms on, the kind where there's a mom and a dad and a kid and they all actually give a shit about each other. That kind.

Derek should've changed the channel, but he just couldn't find the motivation. He was lazy as Hell, and, well, maybe it wasn't _that_ bad. It was pretty fucking bad, sure, but there were worse things on TV these days.

The family was okay. The mom was a pretty little omega, 100% bang-able, and the dad was kind of funny.

And then this kid came on the screen, and just one look at him made Derek's heart lurch.

He looked about 5 years old- couldn't have been much older than 5- with dark hair, and green eyes, and he was riding around the yard on a big green toy truck.

Derek un-muted the TV.

 _That fucking green truck_. That green truck that seemed to follow him everywhere he went, no matter where he was. No matter what, every couple months that fucking green truck would pop up out of nowhere, and Derek would have to fight the urge to go throw himself out of a window.

It was one of those ride-on things, the kind where the kid can just hop on, stomp on the mini gas pedal and boom- you were automatically the flyest toddler in the neighborhood. It could only go up to about 5 miles an hour, but Derek thought that was plenty fast for a bunch of kids who still shit their pants on occasion. Derek had never liked those things, always thought they were dangerous, but-

Derek raised the volume on the TV. He sat there watching for a while, shaking his head at all of the cheesy jokes and 'punny' punchlines. He watched as the sister talked to her 'boyfriend' on the bus, as the mom complained to her friend about baby weight or some shit.

Then the dad came on. The dad, with his geeky plaid shirt and baggy dad-style jeans and bad comb over and warm, friendly dad smile. Derek watched as the dad approached the son, still sitting on his toy ride-on truck, and flashed him a white, too-white smile.

Derek muted the TV. He already knew how this thing was going to go down. He could already hear it in his head, the words making his skin crawl.

First, the dad would go, _"Hi there son, what are you up to today, little buddy_?”

And the son reply, " _Nothing much, dad, just playing with the green truck you got for me. It really is neat-o!”_

And then the dad would get all serious and go, " _Now, sonny, remember what I told you about that truck, pal_?”

And the boy would go, " _Why of course I do, dad_!”

And the dad would go, all misty-eyed and shit,  " _Now just remember, son, those trucks can be a little dangerous,"_   he would warn. _"But don't you worry. If anything happens, you know I'm always going to be here to pick you right back up again. You know I’m always going to be here for you, my son, always and forever_.”

And the audience would clap and clap and fucking clap.

"Oh Deeeeeerek-"

Derek spun around, embarrassed for some reason, if his reddening cheeks were any indication.

Derek turned to see Stiles walking towards him looking almost like a cartoon character, complete with a ridiculously wide, toothy smile plastered on his face.

"You're already done?" Derek asked.

" _Already_ done?" Stiles asked. "I've been in there for 4 hours! Lose track of time much?"

"So you're all set to leave?"

"Yup! and look- check out this sick cast! I didn't know it came in purple, yo- this is fucking awesome."

And all of a sudden Derek was hit with how very incredibly young Stiles really was. How awfully, painfully young.  

"Where's the doctor?"

"Why do you want to see the doctor?"

"Just tell me where he is, Stiles."

"Alright, alright. Down the hall, first room to the left," Stiles called. "But sir, I'm going to have to ask you to please remove the stick from your butt before entering the exam room. My apologies, sir, but it's hospital protocol-"

Derek pounded down the hall to the exam room. Sure enough, the doctor was in there sitting on a little stool and writing something down on his clipboard.

Derek took a moment to size him up. A beta in his 50s or 60s, short but pudgy. Basically bald unless you counted the few remaining tufts of gray hair hanging on for dear life.

This would be easy, Derek figured.

Derek leaned up against the door frame, barely inside of the exam room. He saw the doctor begin to notice him, turning around in his chair to face Derek.

"I'm sorry, can I help you?"

"Yes, actually," Derek said, with his best fake smile. "I believe you treated a friend of mine. Omega; last name of Stilinski."

"Oh, yes," the doctor said calmly. "Mr.Stilinski is free to go whenever he's ready."

"About that," Derek said. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened to him."

The doctor averted his eyes. “I’m sorry. Unless you’re a parent or legal guardian that information is confidential.”

Derek nodded, staring the doctor down. “Look, I get that. But level with me here, doctor. I just- I found this kid on the side of the road, beaten half to death. I don’t even know if he _has_ a family.”

The doctor finally met his eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you any specifics,” he said. The doctor had sad eyes, Derek noted. Sad, clear, and incredibly blue. “All I can tell you is that he’s been through a lot. Talk to him.”

 _Talk to him?_ What kind of dumb fucking advice was that?

He had already talked to this kid. Talking to Stiles for 5 minutes, he decided, was enough to last him a lifetime. Derek was no good at talking. Never had been, never will be. He needed this doctor to tell him exactly what happened so that Derek could fucking fix it, fix _him_ and send this kid on his merry way.

Derek considered, for just a moment, how easy it would be to pin this bald asswipe to the wall and _demand_  he tell him what he wanted to know.

Derek did consider it briefly, the thought of it alone making him smile.

But then, he remembered. This man was a doctor, a _doctor,_ and Derek was a fucking truck driver.

Derek just scowled and turned his head before slamming the door shut and walking away.

\-------------------------

"You never told me. Where exactly are you going, anyway?"

He'd only been back in the car for _5 goddamn minutes_ with this kid, and already he was annoying the shit out of him.

"You ask a lot of questions," Derek said tersely.

Stiles just shrugged. "In case you've forgotten, we're basically complete strangers," he said casually. "I was curious. So sue me."

"I wouldn't hurt you," Derek said. The moment he said it, he knew he was blushing again. _God_ , he was such a sap. _Snap out of it, Hale. You're an Alpha, man_.

Stiles sat up straighter in the passenger's seat, looking over at Derek for the first time. "Yeah, I know that," he said, eyeing Derek with those beautiful soft brown eyes. "For what it's worth- I'm not scared of you or anything. I mean, if you wanted to- do something to me- you could've done it a long time ago."

Derek looked over at Stiles then, unable to hide his surprise. Stiles could only look down at his hands.

"Look, I guess what I'm saying is- I trust you, man."

"You do?"

"Well- yeah," Stiles said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. "I mean- you're the only one that stopped to help me. You were the only one who actually- you were there for me."

"And so now- you actually trust me?"

"Yeah."

"Simple as that?"

"Simple as that."

Derek nodded, feeling a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach. The fluttering, the nervousness- it was back again.

"So if you really do trust me," Derek asked, "What's with the questions?"

Stiles bit his lip, staring out the car window. "Like I said before, man. Can't blame me for being curious."

Derek just nodded.

"So how about it?" Stiles said, raising an eyebrow. "Where are we headed off to today, Mr. Hale?"

Derek readjusted his sunglasses. "Boston."

"Boston?" Stiles asked, a hint of excitement in his voice. "Man, that's far! Awesome, definitely, but far."

"I guess," Derek muttered.

"May I ask _why_ exactly you're heading across the country by yourself on a Wednesday? Not that it's any of my business."

Derek took in a sharp breath through his nose. "Okay. Well- I guess I was just- taking a drive. I needed to clear my head. Thought a road trip might be fun."  

"Buuuuuuuullshit," Stiles said instantly, barely allowing Derek to finish his sentence.

"That's bullshit and you know it," Stiles repeated, obviously not phased by Derek's mean glare. "No way you're just on some 'road trip'. People don't just randomly take a drive across the fucking country 'for fun', man, not sane people, anyway. How dumb do you think I am?"

"I'm not even going to answer that," Derek muttered. "And how do you know that's not what I'm doing?"

"Because I've seen the look in your eyes," Stiles said, glancing over at Derek. When Derek finally gathered the courage to meet his eyes, he couldn't read his expression. "I've see that look before. You, sir, are a man on a mission. Now, let's try this again. Where _exactly_ are we going today, Mr. Hale?"

Derek tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

"I'm going to see my father."

"Oh. That's awesome man, good for you," Stiles said, giving Derek a warm smile. "I'm guessing you haven't seen him in a while? Sucks that you guys live so far away."

Derek just shrugged.

"You guys got anything special planned? Going to dinner? Movies? Man, there's this really cool movie that just came out that you should definitely go see- I think it has Ben Affleck in it-"

"-My father is dying."

Derek didn't know why he said it. It kind of just- came out. When he looked over, Stiles was staring out the window, one hand resting on the side of his head as he absentmindedly scratched at one of his deeper cuts that was beginning to scab over.

"Damn. I'm- I'm really sorry."

Derek just kept his eyes glued to the road. He passed rows and rows of trees, endless motherfucking trees. He passed a large green road sign that told him that he would be entering Colorado soon. Somewhere in the distance he saw the sun beginning to set; the distant purple glow settling in over the landscape like a vast darkness. Derek could feel the Bad Thing lurking.

"I'm not."


	4. Chapter 4

"So, where exactly should I drop you off?"

The sun had almost completely disappeared now; the moon was barely visible against the grayish sky. Derek was still driving along the highway, but he could barely keep his eyes open.

"What do you mean?"

Derek sighed inwardly. "I really need to bring you home. I'm sure your parents are worried out of their minds right about now."

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't live with my parents."

Derek narrowed his eyes. "You don't?"

"Nope."

"How old are you anyway?"

"Look who's got all the questions now," Stiles taunted. "What was that old saying again? Curiosity killed the wolf?"

"Curiosity killed the _cat."_

"Are you sure? Cause I'm pretty sure it was-"

"-I see what you're doing here. You're trying to distract me."

"Well aren't you observant?"

Derek resisted the urge to backhand the kid. _Insolent, disrespectful, annoying omegas..._ He was getting off track again.

"How old are you, omega?" Derek asked in his most demanding alpha tone.

Stiles sat back in his seat. "18."

"Stiles...."

"17, okay? I'm 17. Jesus Christ," Stiles sighed. "And you can stop looking at me like that."

"Fine," Derek huffed, averting his gaze.

"And since I'm 17 and basically an adult in all the ways that actually matter, I was thinking I would just come along with you?"

" _What?"_

"I mean- why not? You're going to Boston, I've always wanted to see New England...Come _on!_ Don't I deserve to see snow at least once in my life?"

"What's so great about the snow?"

"Aww come on! Have you no whimsy?" Stiles asked, his eyes sparkling in a way that made Derek feel some kind of way. "Haven't you ever dreamt of making a snowman? Going sledding? Hot cocoa by the fireplace? Pissing in the snow?"

"I mean, not exactly- wait- what?"

"What, don't tell me you never thought about it?"

"Taking a piss in the snow? I can't say that I have."

"Whatever," Stiles said. "You're no fun."

"And you're not coming with me."

"What? Why not?"

"Because."

"Because why."

"Because," Derek sighed. "I want to do this alone."

"Oh, that's such bullshit," Stiles said, shaking his head.

"I don't need anybody," Derek said through clenched teeth.

Stiles turned, shifting his entire body in the seat to face him.

"I know you don't think you need anyone," Stiles said. "And I'm willing to bet you've spent your entire life trying to convince yourself that you're this big, strong Alpha who doesn't need anybody's help. Am I right?"

Derek just gave Stiles a dirty look, but for some reason he allowed the boy to keep going.

"Right. Well- I just want you to know- I wouldn't think any less of you if you...I don't know...didn't want to face this alone," Stiles said. "I know you probably think that having any emotions at all makes you look weak.  Maybe you even think it makes you less of an Alpha. But- to me- all I can think about is how you basically saved my life back there, how you cared enough to look after me even though you knew you would get nothing in return. And that's what being an Alpha is really about, isn't it? Taking care of people. Right?"

Derek just looked out the window, trying to remain calm, feeling flushed as a wave of heat rushed over him.

"For what it's worth- I can tell you're a good Alpha, I could tell since the moment I met you. And that's not because you were 'powerful' or 'stoic' or whatever bullshit the old alpha geezers keep spewing. It's because you actually give a shit about people. You're the type of guy who would take care of his pack, I can tell. _That's_ how I know you're a good Alpha, not any of that other crap they're trying to force into your head."

Derek just shook his head violently; tried to shake away the thoughts, the- the _feelings,_ the heat that was threatening to consume him.

"Derek?"

Derek shook his head again, taking a deep breath.

"Fine," he said coolly. "You can come, omega. For now."

Stiles' eyes got wide, and he gave Derek a grin so wide it made his heart hurt.

"Sweet!" Stiles exclaimed, turning those honey colored eyes on Derek again. All of a sudden, Derek could _feel_ Stiles' eyes on him, could tell he was _really_ looking at him. Derek felt a chill through his spine. "Thank you so much! I mean- this is amazing, really. You're amazing. God, I could just- I could seriously kiss you right now."

_Deep breaths, Hale. Deep breaths._

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"We should probably pull over somewhere for the night," Derek said, yawning into the crook of his elbow. It was getting close to midnight, and he could see Stiles was barely awake, watching as the boy blinked and rubbed at his eyes.

"Yeah, okay. Sure," Stiles said. "How about right here?"

Derek narrowed his eyes at him. "What are you talking about? There are no hotels for at least 5 miles-"

" _Hotels_?" Stiles asked, like the word itself disgusted him. "Hell no. We're going camping, motherfucker."

Derek was startled, to say the least.

"You want to sleep on the _ground?"_

Stiles started fucking _giggling._ Laughing his adorable ass off. "What? The big bad Alpha can't rough it for one night?"

"No!" Derek said quickly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Of course I _could_. But why would I want to?"

"You never slept out under the stars before?"

"No."

"You're missing out, man. That's all I can tell you."

"You've done this before?"

Stiles got a far-off look in his eye. "Yeah. Yeah, I've done this before."

Derek nodded. "Okay. Yeah, let's do this."

"Really?"

Derek looked at him then, really looked at him. Before he even realized it, he was smiling.

"Yeah. Why not?"

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You could've at least brought some pillows you know."

Stiles swatted at Derek's shoulder playfully as they laid there, side by side. The two of them underneath the stars and against the universe.

"Hey, I didn't know we were going fucking _camping."_

Stiles shrugged. "Fair enough."

"You're lucky I even keep a blanket in my car."

"Must be my lucky day."

Derek sat up a little bit, glancing over to look at Stiles. In the dark, with his pale skin glowing in the light of the moon,  he looked so incredibly young. So innocent. Almost angelic.

There were so many questions Derek wanted to ask him then. _How did he end up in that field? Who were the monsters that hurt him? Where were his parents? Why didn't he want to go home? Did he even have one?_

Derek looked at the boy softly, watching him as he got comfortable and started scratching at a patch of skin under his arm cast.

"What did the doctor say?" Derek finally settled on. Out of all the questions he wanted to ask, that was the only one he seemed capable of at the moment.

Stiles' shoulders stiffened. "Oh, you know. Just that I need to 'rest' and 'take it easy' and all that."

"That's it?"

"Pretty much," Stiles said, eyes fixed on the sky above them.

"It's just the broken arm, then?" Derek asked.

"Uh- he said it was fractured. That's the same thing, right?"

"Yeah."

"Uh- then- yeah. The 'fractured' arm thing. And I guess I got some bruised ribs, and a mild concussion or something. Mostly just bruises. No big deal."

Even in the darkness, Derek could make out the dark purple and greenish bruises that littered his pale skin, from his face to his neck to his arms and legs. _Big deal. Really big fucking deal._

But that wasn't what Stiles needed to hear right now.

Derek closed his eyes, inhaled sharply. "So that was- that was it?"

"Yeah. Pretty much."

Derek gulped. "That was all they did to you?"

Derek watched as Stiles started itching at the skin under his cast furiously. Itching, itching, itching.

"Yup."

Derek nodded, looking up at the stars. They really were beautiful tonight, he noticed. There were a lot of them out tonight, all large, sparkling, and amazingly, incredibly white.

"You know," he began awkwardly. "If you ever wanted to, you know, talk about it...I'll listen."

Stiles smiled a strange, sad little smile. "Well, would you look at that. The big, strong Alpha offering to engage in activities that involve such poisons as _sharing feelings_ and _having emotions."_

"I'm going to sleep."

"Aw, did I hit a nerve?"

"Goodnight, Stiles."

"Alright. Goodnight, my knight in shining armor."

Derek shut his eyes, allowing himself to finally relax and drown out the noises of the outside world.

In his sleep, Stiles pulled the large blanket so that it completely enveloped him, leaving Derek with almost nothing.

Derek smiled, despite his half-conscious state. He wanted Stiles to have it. He wanted Stiles to have everything; he wanted Stiles to have the world.

Derek shivered and turned on his side. The ground was cold but surprisingly comfortable.

At some point during the night, Derek thought he heard a sound- the faintest whisper- he thought he heard the words "thank you."

Derek smiled.

He was probably only hearing things.


	5. Chapter 5

"Good morning, you gigantic pain in the ass."

Derek laughed at his own joke, stretching as he got up off of the ground and brushed the dirt off of his clothes.

"Stiles?"

Derek turned around to see if the boy was still sleeping, but he was no longer there.

A feeling of panic set in for a moment, but only a moment before Derek realized he probably just went off towards the woods to find a bush to piss in.

Derek smirked to himself. _Omegas and their tiny bladders._

Derek took out his cellphone and started scrolling through Facebook. He only spent about 10 minutes on it before being overwhelmed by the level of bullshit he found: it was all pictures of his high school friends, postings about their ugly ass kids, and other steaming piles of crap that he could honestly do without.

He went on his camera app then, checking his appearance in the phone's mirror.

By all outward appearances, Derek _looked_ strong. Incredibly strong, in fact. His neck and arms were bulging, sturdy, powerful. Hell, even his muscles had muscles.

Derek shoved his phone back into his pocket and grimaced. _Looks were fucking deceiving._

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been _25 fucking minutes_ since Derek had woken up, and there was no sign of Stiles.

To say that Derek was starting to panic was a bit of an understatement.

Derek searched the entirety of the little patch of dirt that they slept on, checked the convenience store across the street, went down by the lake a few feet away...nothing. No sign of the kid.

Derek didn't know if he was more worried about losing Stiles, or how it _felt_ losing him.

_Jesus, Hale, grow a pair!_

Derek shut down his stupid thoughts inside of his stupid brain and focused on finding Stiles. He had to be around somewhere- how far could he have really gotten?

Derek tried calling out for him, even though he knew it would probably do absolutely nothing. Stiles was gone, fucking gone, wasn't he?

"Stiles!" he called desperately, his voice harsh, throaty. "Stiles!"

No response.

"Stiles, come on!"

Nothing.

"Come on Stiles, where are you? I can't find you, you giant douche!"

"Hey!"

Derek almost fell over as he heard Stiles voice from across the way. Derek turned around to see Stiles marching towards him, a plastic bag in his hand.

Derek ran towards him as fast as he could, and when he reached Stiles he grabbed the boy by the shoulders. Not harshly, of course. He was still wary of Stiles' injuries. But if the kid wasn't so banged up, Derek swore he would've throttled him.

Okay. Well, maybe he just would've given him a stern talking to. Either way, he wouldn't have gotten off so easily.

"Good morning, sunshine," Stiles said with a cheeky grin. He held open the plastic bag for Derek to see. Inside was an array of junk food: candy bars, chips, soda, the whole nine yards.

"Stiles!"

"I have acquired breakfast," he announced triumphantly.

"-Stiles," Derek mumbled, seemingly unable to form coherent sentences. "Where did you get this?"

"Wal-Mart, duh."

"Jesus Christ!" Derek exclaimed.

"What? Am I not allowed to go to Wal-Mart now? I told you you're not my Alpha, remember?"

Derek put his hand on his forehead. "No- I mean- Couldn't you have at least told me where you were going first?"

Stiles scowled. "Look, man, I don't need your permission-"

"Shut up, Stiles! Shut up for one fucking second!" Derek yelled. "This is not about your independence or omega rights or whatever the fuck you're trying to make it into right now, alright? I was worried about you, okay? I was scared shitless!"

"What were you so worried about?"

Derek threw his head back and grabbed his hair, pulling it because- he didn't even fucking know why. "Do I need to spell it out for you?"

"Please do, Genius."

"Look- you know what? I'm just going to come out and say it," Derek shouted. "You're an omega!"

"What's your point?"

"You could've been hurt- or worse! You could've been kidnapped!"

" _Kidnapped?_ _"_ Stiles said the words as though he found it physically revolting. "I'm a grown ass man, Hale. I don't get fucking kidnapped."

"Yeah, well, you're also an omega. You know what could happen-"

"-Yeah, yeah. I've seen the fucking statistics, same as you-"

"Then what the Hell were you even doing out there, alone, _in the middle of the night?"_

Stiles shifted, pulling at his collar. Derek saw he was chewing gum. "I was just doing a little business."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I was just making a little money," Stiles said with a shrug. "But hey, wanna see this new watch I just bought online? It's so sick-"

"Stiles!" Derek exclaimed, grabbing Stiles shoulder's a little bit tighter. "What are you talking about?"

"Ah, well, it's no fucking Rolex- but this baby is _gold,_ man-"

"Stiles!" Derek shouted, pulling Stiles closer to him, digging his fingers into the boy's skin. "What fucking _business_ are you talking about?"

Derek looked down at Stiles to see that the boy was looking at him with wide eyes, but this time it was not accompanied by his usual excited expression.

This time- for the first time since Stiles had woken up in his backseat- Stiles was looking at him with _fear._

Derek felt a wave of _something_ go through him. It was electrifying, it made his pulse race- but mostly, it just made him sick. Completely, utterly sick to his stomach.

Derek lowered his eyes, taking a deep breath. He would not lose control.

"Stiles," he said, as softly as he could. Still authoritative or whatever. But gentle. "Please, talk to me. What _business?"_

Stiles couldn't even meet his eyes.

"Stiles? Please tell me it's not what I think it is."

Derek felt Stiles' shoulders stiffen in his arms, felt his body go rigid.

When Stiles finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

He looked Derek in the eye.

"You're hurting me," he said. "Let go."

_Let go._

_Let fucking go, Derek._

Derek came back to earth, suddenly realizing with horror how tight his grip on Stiles had really been.

Derek felt physically ill. He felt hot and sick, like he was melting away.

Derek quickly released Stiles from his grip, backing away like he had touched fire.

Stiles just looked at him, really looked at him.

"Good," he said harshly, his one word cutting into Derek's heart like a knife.

With that, Stiles was walking away, walking so fast he was almost running.

Derek sighed, putting his head in his hands.

He was running, always running. Running in circles; running with no end in sight.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Derek sat twiddling his thumbs, running his fingers along the grooves and marks that had been carved into his desk._

_It was week 4 of what the upperclassmen had called "Hell Week", but his health teacher referred to as "Sexual Education."_

_Everyone was separated into 6 groups: male alphas, female alphas, male betas, female betas, and then finally the poor, unfortunate male and female omegas._

_Derek sat in a small group with the other male alphas, who by now were all growing impatient with Mrs.Caldwell, a young beta with a small frame and bird-like features._

_"The bell is about to ring," Tommy Sanders shouted from the back of the room. Tommy was tall even for an alpha, with broad shoulders and curly black hair._

_"I'm aware of that, Tommy," Mrs.Caldwell replied._

_"Can't we just go?" Tommy whined. He looked like he was about ready to jump out of his desk. Tommy had always been a twitchy, energetic kid, but now he was practically exploding with nervous energy._

_"Not yet, I still have 5 more minutes."_

_"Aww, come on. Please?" Tommy asked, practically begging._

_Mrs.Caldwell sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine."_

_"Alright!"_

_"-I'll just need someone to answer one question first."_

_The whole class seemed to groan simultaneously._

_"Now, can someone please tell me the three most important rules for how to treat an omega?"_

_Most everyone sat back in their chairs, seeing if some nerd would take the heat and answer for them._

_Derek looked around nervously before slowly raising his hand._

_"Yes, Derek?"_

_"Never objectify an omega. Don't use any objectifying language- that includes catcalling and sexual innuendo, especially in the workplace."_

_"Very good, Derek. Now who can tell me rule #2?"_

_Derek looked around. Once again, everyone seemed to be mentally checked out. All eyes were either on the clock or the door._

_"Anyone?" Mrs.Caldwell asked hopefully._

_Derek raised his hand again- but not too high. Hopefully no one saw it; maybe they would just think Caldwell was calling on him out of the blue._

_"Derek? Any ideas?"_

_"Um- rule #2-" Derek said slowly. Don't sound too eager. "Never lay a hand on an omega. Omegas are naturally and biologically weaker, and alphas or betas could accidentally hurt an omega without realizing it. No violent physical contact, including grabbing, pushing, shoving, or slapping."_

_"Yes! Good, Derek," Mrs.Caldwell said. "Now, who can tell me the first rule?"_

_The class went quiet._

_Derek knew this rule like he knew them all, but he promised himself he wouldn't say all three. That'd make him look like a loser for sure._

_"Anyone?" Mrs. Caldwell asked._

_Silence._

_Derek knew this one- the most important rule of them all- and it was sitting right at the tip of his tongue. The one rule he would never break. Not that he would ever, ever break any of the rules for treating an omega. Not that he would ever treat any omega in a way that was at all disrespectful._

_Derek Hale was a gentleman, a fucking gentleman._

_But still. This rule- this was the one he knew he would never, never break._

_"Anyone? Derek?"_

_The bell rang._

_"I dunno," Derek squeaked out._

_Mrs.Caldwell sighed. "No one is leaving here until I have an answer."_

_The clock struck 2:00._

_"Anyone?"_

_Suddenly Tommy Sanders stood up, nearly knocking over his desk in the process._

_"Rule #1," Tommy said, his voice practically vibrating off the walls. "Crushing pussy all night long, boys!"_

_"Fuck yeah!" Will Tyson agreed._

_"Tommy!" Mrs.Caldwell exclaimed._

_"Sorry, gotta go, Mrs.C. Catch you later."_

_Tommy left. Nobody tried to stop him, nobody could stop him. He was fucking Tommy Sanders. What choice did she have but to let him go?_

_Derek watched as Mrs.Caldwell stood there for a moment, dazed, before rubbing her eyes and turning slowly to sit at her desk. She sighed, running a hand through her hair._

_Derek wanted to walk over to her, he wanted to. He really should._

_Rule #3 for how to treat a Beta: Beta's were emotional creatures. Be sensitive to their feeling, and listen actively when they need to talk._

_Derek started to approach her desk. He walked slowly, not quite sure of himself, but eventually he got there._

_He was about to open his mouth, offer some words of encouragement- but then she started laughing._

_All of a sudden she was laughing like a hyena, causing the remaining lingering students who hadn't yet left the room to stop and stare._

_"Mrs.Caldwell?" Derek asked, more than a little worried about her mental wellbeing._

_The teacher just laughed and laughed and laughed._

_"Um-Mrs.Caldwell?"_

_"Oh Derek," she said, her voice startlingly high-pitched and strung out. "Oh Derek, you're one of the good ones."_

_"Thank you Mrs.Caldwell-"_

_"Not that it matters," she said, wiping her eyes, starting to get emotional._

_"What do you mean?" Derek asked. He felt the sudden urge to leave. The weight of his backpack was putting too much strain on his shoulders._

_Derek would never forget the look on her face, the way she looked at him._

_"It doesn't even matter," she had said. "Sooner or later, you're all going to be Tommy Sanders, every last one of you. Even you, Derek. Even- Even you."_


	6. Chapter 6

Derek sat behind the wheel of his car, his head in his hands, contemplating his next move.

Derek looked around. They were in the middle of nowhere, basically, but there was a convenience store across the way, and a bus stop a mile back, and _apparently_ a Wal-Mart down the road.

Derek didn't know exactly what he was going to do, but he did know one thing: he was not going to force Stiles to come with him.

Stiles could do whatever the fuck he wanted to.

Stiles had run off in the direction of the convenience store, and he hadn't seen the boy in over an hour.

The kid was probably calling his mom to come pick him up, probably crying to her like a big baby. Typical omega move.

Or maybe he was just calling one of his fucking _clients._

Derek clenched his hand into a fist and slammed it forcefully into the dashboard.

_Fuck._

Derek took a deep breath, sitting back in his chair. He checked his GPS then, adjusting it so he could see it more clearly.

Derek exhaled. _Only 2,000 more miles to go_.

And all this, he thought, for the world's biggest jackass. The world's worst excuse for a father, for an alpha, for a man.

Derek shook his head, sneering to himself as he pulled out that dumb motherfucking letter.

The Letter. Derek had read it so many times the ink was beginning to fade. He was immediately overcome by the smell of his father's old cologne, by his messy, nearly illegible handwriting. The letter was written in blue ink. Derek hated blue ink. He always went with black, always.

Derek read the letter to himself, laughing the whole time because it was a fucking _joke._ It really was a joke of a letter; one Derek shouldn't have even wasted his time reading in the first place 19 years ago.

Derek read the whole letter through, laughing his ass off, especially laughing at the way his father signed the damn thing.

_Love, dad._

Now wasn't that fucking hilarious?

Derek quickly crumpled up the letter and shoved it back in his pocket, sighing and running a hand through his hair. Slowly, Derek sank back into his seat, putting his sunglasses back on and adjusting his mirrors.

If Stiles wasn't back in an hour, he would leave.

Two hours, tops.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Derek sat at the living room table, pen shaking in his hand._

_This was it. This was really it. He was really, actually going to do this._

_He had googled his father's new address, had it scribbled on an envelope next to him. The letter he had written was right next to him, just waiting to be sealed, waiting to be sent._

_Derek was about to put it in the envelope and seal it- but what if it wasn't good enough? What if his father would just look at it and laugh? Derek could picture it now- his father, with his new wife and his new kids, all sitting around the dinner table and laughing about his reject son who couldn't even write a decent letter._

_Derek had already spent the past hour just editing the letter, but once more couldn't hurt, right?_

_Derek picked up the letter in his had, reading it, scanning it and searching for even the slightest of errors._

_He read the letter slowly, carefully, paying close attention to each and every detail._

 

_Dear Dad,_

_I know it's been a long time, and I'm sure you've been busy. I just wanted to let you know that things are going really great here. I got into St. John's_ _Middle school for the fall, and I think I'm going to go. I know you've never been a big fan of the 'fancy private schools', but at least it's got a good_ _reputation, right?_

 _Mom is doing well, too. She just got a job at Los Angeles General as a nursing assistant. She just got her certification in nursing a couple of weeks ago, s_ _o she's pretty excited. She hasn't been dating much. I think she misses you._

 _The other day I had a basketball game, we won 21 to nothing. I scored the final basket, and the whole team went crazy, chanting my name and everything. I_ _t was really cool. I wish you could've been there to see it._

 _Anyway, there's this girl I like in my math class- her name is Joanna. I was thinking of asking her out- but I don't know. I_ _kinda wish you were here. How did you ask out mom? I could use some advice._

 _Anyway, I guess what I'm saying is- I miss you. I miss playing soccer in the backyard, I miss riding bikes, I miss eating cheerios with you in the morning. Don't_ _you miss it too? Where are you, anyway?_

 _I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound annoying. I know you have another life now, and another family- at least that's what aunt Rachel says. But just 'cause you're someone_ _else's dad now doesn't mean that I don't want you to be mine, too. I don't mind sharing._

_I guess what I'm saying is- I'm just worried. I'm not ready to do this without you. I need you here. I know you don't need me anymore, but I need you._

_Remember when you use to call me your 'little pal'? Remember that?_

_Remember when you used to pick me up from school when I wasn't feeling good?_

_Well today I wasn't feeling good at school and I needed you to pick me up, and tell me one of your dumb jokes and make everything okay again._

_But you weren't there. I needed you and you weren't there._

_The past few months I've needed you all the time. I don't know where you've been, but you should've been here. I want you to be here._

_I guess what I'm saying is- I don't even know what I'm saying. I just miss you. I really, really miss you._

_I love you, dad. Please come home. Please._

_Love, Der._

 

_Derek felt hot tears sting at his eyes. He was hit with the sudden urge to take the letter he wrote and rip it to shreds._

_It was stupid, so stupid. He sounded like a rambling, emotional mess. His dad would surely laugh at it. It was just so incredibly, horribly stupid._

_But no. He had to send it. His dad had to know that it was okay to come home. He had to know that Derek needed him- and God, he needed him._

_Trembling, Derek placed his letter into the envelope and sealed it with a piece of tape and a sticker. A smiley face sticker._

 

_That afternoon, Derek walked all the way to the post office by himself, even though it was 8 miles away. By the time he got there, he was sweating and shaking and feeling absolutely miserable._

_The second he walked up to the desk, the post office clerk looked down at him with an expression of pity._

_"Are you alright, kiddo? Are you here all by yourself? You look a little lost," the woman said. She was a tall Beta,  young with curly red hair and an infectious smile._

_"No, I'm not lost. I just need to send this letter. And I need to make sure it gets there okay."_

_"Oh, it's important, huh?" The lady asked, in that same voice all adults seemed to talk to him in. "Is this a letter to Santa Claus? Your Christmas list, maybe?"_

_She said it with a knowing smirk, and Derek frowned in return. He had completely forgotten that Christmas was coming up._

_"No. It's a letter to my dad. I didn't write a letter to Santa"_

_"Oh, how nice," the woman said sweetly. "I'm sure you're dad will be so happy."_

_Derek just shrugged. What else could he do?_

_"But you haven't written a letter to Santa yet?"_

_"Nope," Derek replied, shaking his head._

_"Well, it just so happens that we have a letter-writing station right over by the P.O boxes over there," the lady said, pointing to a desk over in the corner. "How about you write your letter right now, so that way I can send it out for you just in time for Santa?"_

_"Really, you can do that?" Derek asked incredulously._

_"Of course. We have a direct line to The North Pole, you know," the lady said._

_Derek considered it for a moment before slowly nodding his head. "Okay. Right over here?"_

_"Right over there, yup."_

_Derek walked over to the desk in the direction the woman pointed. There was a stack of paper, a few pens scattered on the surface of the desk, and a stack of red and green envelopes in the corner._

_Derek picked up a pen and started writing._

_Derek stood there for a moment, twiddling the pen in his hands, staring down at the piece of paper on the desk._

_Derek wanted to write to Santa, of course- he did it every year to make sure Santa knew that he was paying attention. He didn't want Santa to think that he forgot about him._

_The only problem was that Derek didn't even know what he wanted this year._

_In the past it had been so easy. In the past he remembered asking for a Spider-Man action figure, a basketball hoop, a Monopoly game, a bunch of videogames, a scooter...the list goes on and on._

_This year, all of that stuff seemed unimportant._

_This year he couldn't really think of anything._

_Well, he couldn't think of anything that Santa could possibly give him, anyway._

_Derek put his pen to the paper, writing as clearly as he possibly could, making sure there could be no mistake- that Santa would know exactly what he wanted._

 

_Dear Santa,_

_I know you have a lot of stuff to do this time of year, so this year I'm only asking for one thing. I know it's not an easy thing, but it's something I want more than_ _I've ever wanted any present in my entire life. This year, all I want is my dad back. If I can have my dad back, then I promise I'll never ask for anything else._

 

_Derek squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to go away._

_Santa probably wasn't even real._

_He had suspected for a while now that the adults had been lying to him._

_But- he just- what if he was real? And what if Derek just really, really, really wanted to believe that he was?_

_Derek gripped his pen tight._

_But he wasn't real, though._

_Santa wasn't real, and his dad wasn't coming back._

_Derek crossed out everything he had written frantically. When he was done, he decided it was too messy and instead got a new, clean piece of paper._

_Derek started writing._

 

_Dear Santa,_

_All I want for Christmas this year is a new bike. I know I already have the red one, but that one sucks now and I think that I'm going to get rid of it. Any type or color is fine with me, Santa. As long as it isn't red._

_Thanks, Santa. Love, Derek._

 

_Derek placed the letter in the envelope and brought it up to the clerk._

_"You're all done with your letter?"_

_"Yup."_

_"Great! I'll send that off for you," the clerk said. "I know your dad- and Santa- are gonna be so happy to get these!"_

_Derek just smiled stupidly at her._

_The lady went to get something in the back, and then she returned to the desk, greeting Derek with a huge, ridiculous smile._

_"Everything is all set! Both of your letters are on there way!" she exclaimed._

_"Thank you," Derek replied._

_"Your welcome," the lady called out, just as Derek was turning to leave. "I hope all of your Christmas wishes come true! I bet you'll get everything you ask for."_

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was almost starting to get dark out when Derek heard the car door being pulled open. The noise startled him so badly he almost jumped out of his seat.

Derek turned to see Stiles plopping himself down in the passenger's seat next to him, waving a Snicker's bar in front of his face.

"It's a peace offering," he said simply, like he was stating a fact. "Take it."

Derek just nodded, grabbing the candy bar from the boy's hand.

"Thank you."

Stiles nodded in return. He gave Derek an odd look before turning away.

"Look," he said. His voice was strange, even raspier than usual. "I need to tell you something, and I need you to listen."

"Okay," Derek said. "I'm listening."

"Look, I never- wait. What's that in your hand?"

Derek blushed automatically. He hadn't realized he was still holding onto his father's letter, holding it against his chest like a fucking weenie.

"It's just- it's a letter."

"Oooooooh, who's it from?" Stiles said, giving him a cheeky smirk. "You got a lady friend I should know about?"

Derek blushed even harder, if that was possible.

"It's from my dad," he said calmly, coolly, like it was no big deal. It _was_ no big deal. It really was.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Stiles nodded. He turned to look at Derek then with those piercing brown eyes, those brown eyes that seemed to be able to look right through him, into his soul- Oh _God_. He really was becoming a loser, wasn't he?

"Derek? Earth to Derek?"

"What?"

"I asked you a question."

"Oh. Uh- what was it, again?"

Stiles got a funny look on his face. "I mean- you don't have to answer if you don't want to," he said. "It's just- I got the impression when we were driving the other day that you and your dad aren't exactly close."

"We're not."

"What happened between you two?" he asked.

Derek shrugged, casually- or so he hoped. "The guy left when I was a kid. Haven't seen him in 20 years."

Stiles mouth fell open. "Oh, shit, man- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked-"

"-It's okay," Derek said quickly. "It's not like I'm still hung up on it. I mean- It happened 20 years ago."

Stiles gave him a look, and Derek knew he didn't believe him at all. Not one bit.

"You miss him?" Stiles asked, his eyes bright but somehow still sad.

Derek turned his gaze towards the window. "Not really."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Not even a little bit?"

"Nope."

Stiles just nodded, staring down at his hands.

"You know what I miss most about my mom?"

Derek's head snapped back in his direction, his eyebrows drawn together in concern.

"I miss the stupid shit," Stiles said. "Like, you know, the stuff that literally means less than nothing. I mean- the woman was a fucking whore- a total bitch- but I still miss having someone to sit next to and watch bad movies with, you know? I mean- that's really the shit that you miss. Not the stuff in photos. When I miss her- the one time I actually had a total meltdown over it- it was just a regular fucking Tuesday. I was just sitting there, and Finding Nemo came on, and I just looked over at my mom's old couch and it fucking _hit me._ It was crazy. I mean- we barely even talked, man, but I just- I just looked over at her chair and it was fucking _empty._ It didn't matter that she was a stone cold bitch. I just missed- I don't know. I just really wanted her to be there, man. I just- it felt like something was missing. Even if it was something I didn't want there in the first place."

Derek just nodded, his vision becoming cloudy as unshed tears filled his eyes.

"So?" Stiles asked, looking at Derek curiously. "You want to talk about it?"

Derek shook his head, hands gripping the steering wheel a little too hard.

"Alright. Suit yourself. But if you want to, you know- I know I'm a motor mouth, but I can listen, too."

Derek grabbed the steering wheel and squeezed, hard.

"Stiles?" Derek said, his voice embarrassingly small. Normally he would be mortified, tell himself to _Alpha up_ or whatever. Right now, he couldn't give less of a shit.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," Derek said, his voice wavering a little. "I'm- I'm so sorry."

"Derek-"

"I never should've- oh God, I _never_ should have grabbed you like that. I could've hurt you- maybe I _did_ hurt you. I just- I'm really, really sorry. It's never happened before and I swear it will never happen again."

Stiles turned to face him. Where there should have been anger, Derek could only see compassion in his eyes.

"It's alright," Stiles said. "And I hate to admit it, but...you were right. I was being a jackass. Probably deserved it."

Derek felt his insides tie up in a knot, felt a wave of nausea hit him.

He wanted to grab Stiles and yell it in his ear over and over again, force him to listen, force him to understand.

 _It wasn't your fault_ , he wanted to say. _Not now, not before, not ever_.

 


	7. Chapter 7

"Alright, man. Go ahead. Ask already."

"What?" Derek asked, his eyes darting away nervously. They were driving now on the interstate, the windows rolled down and sunlight shining into the car.

1500 miles to go.

"Just fucking _ask_ already," Stiles said, more amused than annoyed. "I know you're curious about my...occupation."

God, Derek felt like he could throw up.

"And by the way, I'm not ashamed of what I do," he turned to Derek then and looked him in the eye, and Derek could tell that he meant it. "So go ahead. Ask."

Derek gulped. He had no clue what to say, no fucking clue.

Before he could stop himself, his curiosity got the better of him.

“Please tell me you don’t - you just jerk them off, that’s it, right?”

Derek cringed as soon as he said it, but Stiles didn't seem phased in the least.  

“A magician never reveals his secrets.”

For a moment, Derek actually thought he was going to be sick.

"Any more questions, Curious George?"

Once again, Derek was just blurting out shit, because apparently his mind and his mouth were not on the same page anymore.

"Why?"

"Why _what?"_ Stiles asked.

"Why do you do it?" Derek asked.

Stiles looked at the floor. "Why does anyone do anything, man? _Money_."

Derek could've slapped himself then, because- _of course_.

Derek knew he should've just moved on to a different topic; he should've just kept his mouth shut altogether. But Derek Hale had never been the brightest or the sharpest; and when it came to Stiles, he was one dumb motherfucker.

"I know it's none of my business," Derek said innocently, staring down at his hands. "...But I think you could do better."

Derek couldn't help but cringe at Stiles' response, startling at the sound of Stiles' bitter little laugh.

"No offense, Derek," Stiles said, staring out the window, frowning at nothing in particular, "but you don't really know me."

"I know you enough to be 100% certain that you're better than _this,"_ Derek said, feeling himself getting fired up. Just the thought of Stiles' job- of the way Stiles was used, treated like garbage...it made Derek's blood boil.

Stiles just shook his head, careful not to look directly at Derek. "I'm not, though, Derek. The shitty thing is- I'm really not."

Derek felt his heart break at Stiles' words, at the hopelessness apparent in his voice. Like that was all he was- like that was all he would ever be. Cheap and easy. Cheap and trashy. _Trash._  

"But you are," Derek said. "You're more than this, Stiles. You're smart- there's so much you could do with your life-"

"Save the inspirational speech, Dr.Phil," Stiles said, scowling and crossing his arms. "-Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do here, I really do. Just- you don't understand, Derek, and you never will. And man- I'm _glad_ you don't understand, because for you to understand, you would've had to live it yourself."

"Stiles- what are you talking about? I don't get it."

"-And you never will," Stiles said, closing his eyes. "You won't. You don't know where I come from, what I've been through- you don't really know who I am."

Derek just made a face. "What does that even mean, Stiles?"

Stiles looked over at Derek then, seeing the worry, the concern _for him_ etched into his features, the level of care that Stiles _really_ didn't deserve, and suddenly Stiles was sick to his stomach.

"Man, you need to pull over."

"Wait- right here?" Derek asked, perplexed by Stiles yet again.

"Yeah. Go into the break-down lane."

"I can't just park there, Stiles, that's illegal," Derek said, his green eyes flooded with confusion.

"Yeah, well, too bad," Stiles said harshly, finally meeting Derek's gaze. "It's story time, motherfucker."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Only after Derek had pulled the car over and rolled up the windows did Stiles finally begin to talk.

"So, where to begin my epic tale..."

"-How about the beginning?" Derek asked.

Stiles shrugged. "I don't want to bore you with the details."

Derek looked into the boy's eyes. "I don't think anything you do could ever bore me, Stiles."

Stiles blushed, a deep pink. _Jesus._ "Alright, if you really want to hear the whole thing, I'll take it from the top," Stiles said. "Anyway- For as long as I can remember, it was just me and my mom. Never had a dad. Or- if I did- well, I never met the guy."

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't be. Not like he gave a fuck about me anyway. You don't need those kind of people in your life, Derek. They're fucking toxic."

Derek just nodded, thinking that it made a lot of fucking sense, it really did.

"Anyway, for a long time, it was just me, my mom, and whatever asshole she happened to be dating at the moment."

Stiles took a breath, looked out the window.

"For a couple years she dated this major douchebag named Jerry. And I mean total fucking asshole. He used to hit her, like, all the time. But he paid the bills, and she couldn't by herself, so she stayed with him."

"Your mother was an omega." It was a statement more than a question.

"Yup. So it wasn't like she could go off and get herself a real career that paid actual money. She could be a secretary or a nurse or a teacher, sure, but that wasn't gonna pay the bills for her L.A. mini-mansion, you know?"

Derek nodded, feeling that familiar sense of dread forming in the pit of his stomach, knowing that the story was only about to get worse.

"-Eventually, Douchebag Jerry left her, and she was on her own. No job, no money, no nothing- nothing but bills, and rent, and me," Stiles said, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. "And- like I said- she could've gotten a job as a secretary or whatever. But you know what? That's not the Stilinski way. We don't _do_ that shit. Those easy 'omega jobs' that just make us look like a bunch of desperate housewives. No way."

Derek felt the dread really pooling up now. He knew what was coming.

"So she started whoring herself out," Stiles said simply, like it was just a fact and nothing more. "It certainly paid the bills, and then some. She was an attractive Omega in a city full of horny Alphas. It just made sense. And beside the constant bullying at school for being the son of the lady who got jizzed on for a living, it was pretty okay. For a while anyway, it was okay."

Stiles took a deep breath, and Derek thought he saw his eyes beginning to get glassy.

"-And then fucking January 5th happened."

Derek bit the inside of his mouth, clasped his hands together.

"What happened on January 5th?"

Stiles said the whole thing like he was reciting a passage from a dictionary. Cold. "January 5th, 2006. It was Tuesday, and I was at school. These two cops came into my classroom to get me. Took me out into the hallway, and told me what happened. They told me- they said my mom was dead. Killed by a jealous customer, strangled to death. The guy turned himself in. But my mom- she was definitely dead."

"Stiles- I'm so-"

"-So I went to live with my aunt and uncle. Talk about Douchebags," Stiles said, cutting Derek off. Derek got the impression that Stiles had no time for his pity. "I mean- objectively, they weren't bad people, per se. But my Aunt was an alpha and my uncle was a beta, their three kids were all alphas. And believe me when I tell you they had no fucking clue how to deal with the fact that I wasn't one of them."

"-They treated you differently because you were an omega," Derek supplied, and Stiles only nodded.

"You have no idea, man. Wouldn't let me so much as cross the street without a 'chaperone' present. No sports, no school dances, no nothing. They were so scared I was gonna get hurt no matter what I did, they barely let me do anything. When I tell you that I didn't have a life- I _really_ didn't have a life."

Derek bit his lip, debating on whether or not he should reach out to Stiles, offer him a comforting hand on his shoulder, something at least.

"-Figures that the one time I actually _do_ get hurt is when I'm really fucking far away from them."

Derek drew his hand back. He wanted to comfort Stiles, but- he just couldn't do it. _Alpha up, Derek. Alpha up, alpha up, alpha up-_

"-You know what the crazy part is?" Stiles asked, pulling out his pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"What?" Derek asked, watching as Stiles pulled out a Marlboro and lit it.

"-All this shit, all this fucking shit happened because my whore of a mother couldn't keep her fucking legs shut." 

Derek couldn't help it, he physically cringed at the statement. It just seemed.... _wrong_. Stiles could be bold, he could be rude, sure- but this was more than that. This was bitter, and cold, and mean. Derek looked into Stiles' eyes for a moment, and what he found surprised him more than it should have. Stiles was angry. Stiles was really, really fucking angry.

Whether he was angry at his mother, or her killer, or society, or the world- Derek didn't know.

"So, now you know," Stiles said causally, taking a drag from his cigarette. "It's kind of a family business."

Derek shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "It doesn't have to be."

Derek knew Stiles wouldn't believe it, but he had to at least say it. He had to try.

Stiles just shook his head. "Man, if only the world worked the way you think it does. I'd probably be a motherfucking king."


	8. Chapter 8

They were only 1200 miles away when he asked it, the dreaded question.

Derek knew it was coming; it was always asked eventually when someone met him for the first time. Not always right away, but eventually, people always asked.

Derek didn't know if it was his age, or his personality, or both. Maybe people just really liked to fuck with him.

Either way, they always asked.

Derek had started it- he should've seen it coming. They were in the car, silent, nothing but the radio to drown out the awkward quietness.

Derek hadn't meant to land on such a serious conversation topic, but he couldn't help himself. He was still curious- there was still so much about Stiles he didn't know.

"So you really never met your father?"

Stiles sat up straighter in his seat; Derek watched as the boy's shoulders went rigid.

"Nope," Stiles said. It was meant to be casual, Derek could tell, but there was a harshness to his voice.

"Wow," Derek said, because apparently there was no limit to the amount of stupid shit he could say in one week.

Stiles smirked to himself, but it wasn't the usual, beautiful, bright smile that Derek was used to. This smile was dark, much too dark for Stiles' angelic face, in Derek's humble opinion.

"Yup. All I know about him is apparently he was some low-level drug dealer. Guess he got mixed up in some shady business and had to take off. Last I heard he got busted for possession with intention to distribute."

"Damn," Derek said, shaking his head.

"Yup," Stiles said.

"Fathers."

"Fathers," Stiles replied.

Stiles started coughing then all of a sudden, coughing harshly, sounding like he was about to hack up a lung.

"Are you okay?" Derek asked when the coughing was beginning to die down.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Stiles said, his voice hoarse. "I think I'm getting sick, though. My throat is killing me."

Derek looked over at Stiles, his eyes flooded with concern. "Do you want me to stop somewhere? I could get you some medicine, some soup-"

"-You wanna buy me _soup?"_

"Of course," Derek said simply. "You could probably also use a dehumidifier-"

"A _dehumidifier?"_

 _"_ And some nasal spray."

Derek looked over when he heard Stiles start to giggle, and- _oh-_ he was laughing at _him._

"What's so funny?" Derek asked, crossing his arms.

Stiles just shook his head. "You, man. You're fucking hysterical."

Derek just pouted, turning his attention towards the window.

"Dude, you are _such_ a dad _."_

Derek's face immediately went red, his whole body heating up.

"Not really," Derek said, trying to sound calm. Not like his whole body was on fire.

"No, man, you totally are. I swear, you were meant to have kids- you're like _the_ most fatherly person I know," he said, looking into Derek's eyes. "You ever think about starting a family?"

And there it was. The dreaded words. Derek gulped, biting his lip.

Derek thought for about his answer for a moment. Should he lie? Maybe he could redirect; Stiles did seem a little flighty and probably wouldn't even notice- but no. He couldn't lie. Not about this. Not again. For some reason, Derek had the overwhelming desire to just be straight about it, for once in his life.

"I have a kid," he said quietly, silently wishing that maybe, just maybe Stiles wouldn't hear him. "A son."

Judging by the way that Stiles' eyes went wide, the boy definitely heard him loud and clear. "No fucking way."

"Yup," Derek said. Hopefully the kid would get the hint that he was not in the mood to talk about it.

"Yo, that's crazy!" Stiles said excitedly. "How old is he?"

Derek gulped, heart fluttering in his chest. "He's 4 now."

Stiles just shook his head, giving Derek this fond look that just made him feel sick. "Man, that is one lucky kid."

Derek bit his lip, felt his eyes beginning to sting. "I wouldn't say that."

Stiles just smirked. "Oh, you're one of those super overprotective dads, aren't you?"

Derek just took a deep breath, turning his head away.

"-Yeah, I can see it now," Stiles said, poking Derek playfully in the arms. "You're totally one of those helicopter parents. You know, of the total pain in the ass variety."

Derek didn't respond, just squeezed his eyes shut. He could get through this.

"I bet you never leave that poor kid alone, do ya?" Stiles asked, jabbing Derek in the shoulder again. "But hey, all joking aside, I bet you're like, _the_ coolestdad-"

"-Stiles."

Derek said it so quietly it was barely a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Please- please, just stop."

When Stiles looked over, Derek was leaning against the steering wheel with his head in his hands.

"Derek?"

"I left him."

Stiles shook Derek's arm, but he wouldn't move from his position, slumped over against the wheel.

"What?"

"I left him," Derek said, the familiar feeling of shame washing over him sickeningly. "I left him. I left him when he was two years old."

"Shit," Stiles said, taking his hand off of Derek's arm. "...Damn. I-uh- I didn't know-"

"It's okay," Derek said, careful to keep his voice steady. _You are an Alpha. Alpha's don't fucking cry._

Derek was expecting a barrage of questions from Stiles now. He expected Stiles to slap him, to ask him _why the fuck he couldn't be a man, why he couldn't be there for his family._ To ask him why he was such a fucking _joke_ , and was he really okay with letting his son grow up without a father?

What kind of heartless bastard just leaves their girlfriend and two year old son?

All questions that Derek knew he deserved. He prepared himself for the shame, the guilt, the overwhelming feeling of humiliation. Hell, he _wanted_ the questions, the insults, the glares, the looks of judgement. He deserved it; he deserved it all and then some.

Stiles turned to look at him softly, and Derek couldn't read his expression.

"What's his name?"

Derek just sat there, blinking for a moment before answering. "Alex."

Stiles nodded. "Short for Alexander?"

"...Yeah."

"That's a cool name."

Derek felt the tears sting his eyes again, because this was all too much. He could handle the insults, the degradation...but _this_ \- this he just couldn't take.

"You got a picture of him or something?" Stiles asked casually.

Derek shook his head. 

"I bet he looks just like you, huh?"

Derek just squeezed his eyes shut, suppressing a scream.

"I bet he-"

"-You're not gonna tell me off?" Derek blurted out. He just- he couldn't deal with this. He needed Stiles to yell at him and call him out for the spineless, heartless douche that he was.

Stiles just sat up in his seat, picking at the skin underneath his cast. "Dude, you know what I do for a living," he said. "I really don't have any right to judge anybody from a moral standpoint, you know that right?"

Derek just nodded, understanding.

"Just so you know, though, I stand by my previous statement."

"What?" Derek asked, not sure what he was talking about.

"That's one lucky kid, to have a dad like you," Stiles said, looking Derek directly in the eyes as he said it.

Derek felt his stomach drop and he rolled down the window, needing some air. But there was no air, none at all. He was choking, suffocating.

All at once, Derek couldn't fucking breathe.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Derek burst through the door of Anna's apartment, exhausted and terrified._

_He had been on a job delivering some electronics to a warehouse in Texas when he got the call. Anna had gone into labor._

_But Derek was hundreds of miles away, and so- just like that- he had missed the birth of his son._

_It broke his heart that he couldn't be there, couldn't help Anna through it-_

_Derek shook the thoughts out of his head._

_He was here now, and that was all that mattered._

_Derek unlocked the door, keys shaking in his hands, and slowly entered the apartment._

_He was immediately greeted by the sound of a baby crying, and Derek's heart lit up._

_That was his son- his boy._

_"Derek?" Anna's melodic voice called out. It sounded like she was calling from the bedroom, and Derek practically sprinted down the hallway to her._

_When he got in, he was greeted by his girlfriend, looking tired but beautiful, her long blonde hair splayed out across the pillow as she lied down in their bed. Across the room, Anna's mother Karen was leaning over the crib that Derek had built, making little cooing noises and giggling._

_Derek couldn't help it- he practically pushed his future mother in law out of the way to get to his baby. Karen gave him a look as she was shoved away, but Derek didn't care. All that mattered right now- all that would ever matter to him from now on- was his son._

_He looked down, and God- Derek actually started crying. Bawling like a little girl. He didn't even care._

_His son was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful._

_Derek gulped, feeling his heart ache in his chest- but it was a good kind of ache._

_Looking down at his son- his son  was all that he could see._

_He had Anna's button nose, Anna's blue eyes- and Derek's thick, dark hair._

_Like he said. Absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful._

_"Derek," Anna said, getting up slowly and walking over to stand beside him over the crib. "I'm so glad you're home. Isn't he adorable?"_

_Derek didn't answer. All of his focus was on his son, his beautiful boy, his angel. It was like there was no one else in the room._

_Derek reached down tentatively, gently touching a finger to the boy's cheek. The baby squirmed, wriggling his tiny body around, and made a noise like a shriek._

_"Don't cry, sweetheart," Derek said softly, brushing the tips of his fingers through the baby's hair. "I'm your daddy. I love you so much, you know that?"_

_The baby just replied with another shriek, this time not quite as loud._

_His son looked up at him then, his eyes so clear and so blue and so innocent, and Derek- Derek had never felt such an intense, overwhelming feeling of love before in his life. It had only been 5 minutes, and yet Derek knew he would never love another person as much as he loved his boy, never. His son, within 5 minutes of meeting, had taken all of his heart- absolutely all of it._

_The baby cried again, and in that moment, Derek felt a strange, sudden sense of protectiveness. In that moment, he knew he would always, always protect his boy, provide for him, love him. He would always, always be there for him. His son deserved the world, the entire world- and Derek intended to give it to him."_

_The baby reached out for Derek then, and Derek allowed the boy to grasp his finger in his tiny hand. His crying only got worse now, louder and more feverish._

_Derek reached down, gently squeezing his son's hand back, hoping his son could feel how much he loved him._

_"It's alright, baby," Derek said softly, gently, barely a whisper. "Daddy's got you. Daddy's here. Daddy will always be here, always."_


	9. Chapter 9

"Hey, what are you doing?"

They still had 800 miles to go, and Stiles was pushing all the buttons on his dashboard like a fucking lunatic.

"How do you turn on the radio?" Stiles asked, pressing one button so hard Derek thought he might break it. "Man, this car is ancient. Are all these buttons even necessary?"

"Do we have to listen to music?" Derek asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Uh, _yeah,_ of course we do," Stiles said.

"Can't we just listen to the news?"

"Aw, you are such a buzzkill, man, " Stiles said, shaking his head.

"You don't like listening to the news?"

"Hell no," Stiles replied.

"It's informative."

"It's fucking depressing."

Derek sighed loudly, hoping Stiles would take the hint that he was not in the mood.

"You know who listens to the news?" Stiles asked. "Old people. And nerds, and losers, and you, apparently-"

"-Alright, _fine_ ," Derek said, exasperated. "Just- I don't like rap. Anything but rap."

"How about country?"

"-And no country," Derek said quickly.

"Fine," Stiles said, pouting slightly as he turned the knob on the radio. It landed on a Madonna song, and Derek immediately brought his hands up to cover his ears.

"Oh God, not this shit."

"Hey, don't insult the queen," Stiles said, glaring at Derek playfully.

"This isn't even one of her good songs," Derek said, crossing his arms.

"Are you serious?" Stiles sighed, looking at Derek like he didn't quite believe him. " _Like a virgin, touched for the very first time-"_

"Hey, I never agreed to a sing-along," Derek said.

"Aw, you're no fun."

"Just change the station," Derek demanded.

"Oooookay," Stiles said, turning the knob. A new song came on, and in less than a minute Derek was sighing yet again.

"What? You got a problem with this one, too?"

"And you don't?"

"No, I love this song! You're crazy, dude."

"It's disgusting," Derek said, cringing at the graphic sexual lyrics.

"Oh, what, is it too _raunchy_ for you?" Stiles asked mockingly. "What, do I have to put on Radio Disney for you?"

"No. I just- honestly, I find it a little sexist."

"It's just a song," Stiles said. "Not that it applies to a big, strong, alpha male like you anyway, right?"

Derek just scowled at the sarcasm. "Change it."

"Seriously?"

"It's my car, my rules. If you don't like it, you can get out."

Stiles raised his eyebrows.

"Is that a threat?"

"Maybe," Derek said. Stiles looked over then, smiling when he saw the little smirk on Derek's face.

"Well, would you look at that," Stiles said, goofy smile plastered on his face. "Derek Hale, the world's broodiest, moodiest Alpha, making a joke-"

"-Yeah, yeah. Just change the fucking station."

"Sure thing, asswipe."

Stiles turned the knob once again, and this time Derek remained silent. No protests, no obvious sighing.

"Well?"

"Well _what?_ " Derek asked.

"You're not gonna be a pain in the ass about this one?"

Derek just shrugged, sitting back in his seat.

Stiles looked over at him then, the biggest, most ridiculous smirk on his face.

"What?" Derek asked, noticing Stiles knowing smirk.

"You _like_ it," Stiles said.

"No I don't," Derek said quickly, cheeks already starting to turn red. God, he hoped Stiles didn't catch it- but of course he did.

"You _liiiike it."_

Derek just shrugged. "It's not revolting."

"Oh, you _love_ it, don't you? This is your fucking jam, ain't it?"

"What-no! I never-"

"-It figures, this songs is like 8,000 years old. Of course you would like it..."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Not important," Stiles said. "Anyway, luckily for you, this song just happens to be my shit."

"How wonderful," Derek deadpanned.

"-So now allow me to grace you with my beautiful singing voice-"

"-Are you kidding me?"

"I've been told I have the voice of an angel."

"Oh, for Christ's sake-"

"-Oh _baby there ain't no mountain hiiiiigh enough."_

"No-"

" _Ain't no mountain looooow enough-"_

_"No."_

_"Ain't no river wiiiide enough-"_

"Are you seriously singing a duet _by yourself?"_

_"To keep me from getting to you baaaaby."_

On the last line, Stiles put his arm around Derek and sang right into his ear- and _God-_ Derek could feel Stiles' breath on his neck. His whole body tingled, the sensation overwhelming his senses.

All of a sudden, Derek didn't care that the song was cheesy as Hell, or that Stiles' sounded more like a chain-smoking granny than a teenage boy when he sang. All that mattered was that Stiles was here, and that he was so incredibly, wonderfully close.

Stiles might not have had the voice of an angel, but to Derek, he was still absolutely, 100% certainly from heaven.

"Sing with me."

"What?" Derek asked, caught by surprise.

"Well," Stiles said, nudging Derek playfully. "It _is_ a duet, as you so kindly pointed out. And I think we make a pretty good team, you and me. So are you gonna join me or what?"

Derek was about to shake his head vehemently, outright refusing to sing- but then he looked into Stiles eyes.

Right now, Stiles' eyes were so amazingly bright and warm, and they had taken on that innocent quality that Derek had noticed when he first met him. Derek so badly wanted to preserve that innocence, that light in his eyes, even if Stiles' was shockingly far from innocent himself.

"Well?" Stiles asked, amber eyes shining in the sun.

Derek could've said no, _should've_ said no. If he had any brains left in his head, he would've shut off the radio and kicked Stiles out of his car before the boy could make his way into his heart.

Instead, Derek looked over, smiled at Stiles, turned up the radio's volume, and sang.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

" _She's a maniaaaac, maniaaac on the floor- and she's dancing like she's never danced before-"_

"Yo, Derek?"

" _She's a maniaaaac, maniaaaac on the floor-"_

"DEREK!"

" _And she's-_ What?"

"I hate to interrupt your shitty music," Stiles said, "But I need to ask you something."

"Okay, shoot."

"You have any water? I'm all out."

"There should be a bottle in the back seat."

Stiles unbuckled his seatbelt for a moment, twisting around to reach the water bottle in the back. As he reached out for it, Derek heard him groan and take in a sharp breath.

"Ow- shit."

"You okay?" Derek asked, eyeing Stiles with concern.

"-Yeah," Stiles said hesitantly. Derek watched out of the corner of his eye as Stiles sat back in his seat and pulled out a small container of pills.

"They gave you something for the pain?"

Stiles nodded. "I was trying not to use it, I keep hearing all these horror stories about people getting hooked on prescription painkillers. But I think I need them- Damn these childproof caps!"

"You can't open them?"

"I don't know- hold on- shit!"

Derek could only watch as the cap popped off suddenly, and the majority of the pills sprang out and fell to the floor.

"Damn it!" Stiles exclaimed.

"Hold on, let me pull over," Derek said. "I can help you pick them up-"

"It's alright. They're all over the floor. It's not worth it," Stiles said with a sigh.

"Are you sure? Because I don't mind-"

"I'm sure," Stiles said.

"You'll be okay?" Derek asked, shooting Stiles a worried glance.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Aren't you in pain?"

"Nothing unmanageable."

"You're _sure_ you'll be alright?" Derek asked, giving Stiles a meaningful look.

At that, Stiles just snorted a laugh.

"Believe me, Derek. I've gotten through a lot worse than this. I can handle myself."

And just like that, the car went silent.

Just like that, the curiosity overwhelmed Derek, and all of a sudden he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't handle not knowing- he just needed to know. Looking into Stiles eyes, his beautiful, deceptively innocent eyes- he just- he  _needed_ to know.

"-Stiles?"

"Yeah, Derek?"

"-If I asked...would you tell me what happened to you?"

Stiles just gave him a look. "Like- you want my life's story, or-"

"I mean- I'd like to hear that, too," Derek said, face heating up. "But- what _happened_ to you? How did you get hurt? Did someone attack you?"

When Derek looked over, Stiles was biting his lip and scratching at the skin under his cast like a madman.

"I'm sorry- if you don't want to tell me-"

"No, I'll tell you," Stiles said, voice low. "Just- pull over. This might take a while."

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Derek pulled the car over into the breakdown lane illegally, _again,_ and looked over to Stiles.

Stiles was looking down, twiddling his thumbs, looking deep in thought.

"Are you sure about this? Because if you're not ready to talk about it-"

"No- no, I'm good," Stiles said, looking up at Derek. "I just- I don't even know where to fucking start."

Before he even realized what he was doing, Derek was placing a comforting hand on Stiles' shoulder. "Start wherever you need to. I don't care how long it takes. How ever much you need to tell me- I'll listen."

Stiles just gulped, nodding furiously. "Okay, shit, okay," he said, and Derek could tell already tell he was struggling. "Well, I guess- It would only make sense- I should start with Sophia."

"Who's Sophia?"

Stiles took a deep breath, his eyes on the sun setting in the distance. "The love of my life."

It was the most serious that Stiles had ever sounded, and Derek felt an odd pang in his chest. He tried not to think about what that meant.

Derek bit his lip. "Sounds like one of those classic love stories."

Stiles snorted a laugh at that one; a biting, sarcastic laugh.

"Good one," he said sarcastically.

"No, really," Derek said. "That's like something people say in romance movies."

Stiles laughed again. "Yeah, well, our 'love story' isn't exactly all that much like the movies- except for maybe Pretty Woman, but, you know, in reverse-"

Derek's eyebrows shot up in shock, and he looked over at Stiles, eyes flooded in concern.

"Are you saying that she _hired_ you?"

Stiles shrugged, a sad smile on his face. "Don't look so shocked, Derek. It's not like it doesn't happen all the time. A rich Alpha with enough money to buy the whole state of California hires a nice little omega _companion_ to keep her company. A tale as old as time."

Derek wondered silently if he was always going to feel ill at the mention of Stiles' line of work, or if it was just a passing thing.

"And don't look so disgusted, either," Stiles said, giving Derek a dirty look. "It wasn't like that- not at first, anyway. In the beginning, it really just was about companionship. She only hired me to keep her company."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. It was weird, man- she was basically paying me to hang out with her. We watched movies, cooked, played tennis- mostly we talked. No sex whatsoever."

"Jesus Christ."

"Yeah. It was- it was so fucking weird. At first I figured it was too good to be true- I mean, she was paying me a shitload of money, for _what?_ To sit around and shoot the breeze all day? I couldn't even believe it myself," Stiles said. "One day I couldn't take it anymore- I mean, it made _no fucking sense_ \-  and I asked if she wanted to sleep with me."

Derek's eyes went wide. "What'd she say?"

"She slapped me," Stiles said softly, shaking his head. "And then she just- she took me in her arms and started _bawling._ Said there was no way she was taking advantage of me like that, that she respected me way too much."

Derek didn't even know what to say, so he kept his mouth shut.

"...I guess that was around the time I fell in love with her," Stiles said. "I mean- she was literally perfect. She was beautiful like you wouldn't believe, and smart, and funny, and she didn't just see me as an object to bang. She actually gave a shit about me, and you know what? That's really rare, Derek, that's really fucking rare."

Derek nodded, keeping his eyes glued on the floor of the car. "So what happened?"

Stiles looked away from Derek then, as if he actually couldn't bare to look at him any longer, and turned towards the window.

"We waited until after I turned 17, of course, because she just respected me so damn much," Stiles said, and Derek could almost feel the bitterness, the tension in the air. "The second I turned 17, it was on. Neither of us could wait any longer. We started seeing each other, and I mean _really_ seeing each other. I was with her basically every second of every day, and when I wasn't with her I was calling her or texting her or missing her like crazy. And let me tell you, man- it was fucking perfect for a while. Like- Angelina and Brad level perfect. You know she used to fucking buy me flowers every single day? I know that's considered outdated and sexist against omegas now, but- it was the first time anyone had ever cared that much about me. Hell, it was the first time anyone gave a shit about me at all. It was just so fucking perfect, Derek. So fucking perfect."

Stiles' voice cracked on the last word, and Derek had to bite down the urge to squeeze him tight.

Derek saw that Stiles' eyes were brimming with tears now, and Derek fought the urge to burst into tears along with him. A shocking thought hit him then, a possibility, and before he knew it he was blurting it out.

"Is Sophia the one who did this to you? Did she- beat you?"

From what Derek gathered, Sophia was an Alpha, and more than capable of hurting a gentle omega like Stiles. He didn't even want to think it was an option, didn't even want to consider domestic violence as a possibility- but he needed to know.

Stiles just shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "Yes and no."

"What do you mean?"

"She didn't hit me," Stiles admitted, scratching at his arm cast again. "But she is the reason this happened to me."

Derek put his hand to his chin, scratching at his stubble. "I don't understand."

Stiles shifted his eyes downward. His voice was quiet and hoarse. "The night before you found me on the street," Stiles began, fidgeting nervously in his seat, "man- it was just like any other fucking Friday night. I had ordered pizza for me and Sophia- she was supposed to come over in an hour. So I was just sitting there at the table waiting for her- God, I was so fucking excited to see her-"

Stiles paused to wipe at his eyes with the back of his hand. Derek tried to offer him a tissue, but Stiles just waved it away.

"-And so there I was," Stiles said. "Friday night, just waiting for Sophia. Then I, uh- I heard a knock at the door. I just assumed it was her-"

Stiles voice cracked again, and Derek debated once again if he should reach out to the boy.

"-But when I opened the door- there were three huge Alphas standing on the other side," Stiles said, taking a moment to breathe.

Derek felt Stiles start to shake, and without thinking he reached out and placed his hand on Stiles' leg to steady him. He didn't care if that made him a pussy, he didn't care if that made him a sap. All he cared about right now was Stiles.

"-So, uh, long story short," Stiles said, voice shaking, "They blindfolded me, kidnapped me, and took me out of my apartment. Dragged me out into the middle of the woods, and beat the shit out of me."

Derek's hands involuntarily clenched into fists. He wanted to break something, anything- he wanted to pound something into the fucking ground.

"Those sick fucking _bastards_ -"

"-Wait, it gets better," Stiles said bitterly, and Derek felt sick once again. He didn't know how much more of this his heart could take.

"You wanna know why they did it?" Stiles asked, his tone becoming fiery, acidic. "You want to know the icing on the fucking cake?"

Derek gripped his hands on the steering wheel and squeezed until his knuckles turned white.

"These motherfuckers kidnapped me, beat me up, and left me in the street unconscious- left me to die- all because my stupid fucking _client_ couldn't keep her legs shut."

Derek's eyes went wide in confusion. "What?"

"Sophia," he spat, like the name itself was poison. "-She fucking cheated on me, Derek. Or- I guess she used me to cheat on her husband, the poor bastard, but it's not like either one of us had any fucking clue!"

"-Stiles-"

"-It's not like I would've started sleeping with her if I knew she was fucking _married_ ," Stiles said, wiping his eyes with his sleeves as tears streamed down his face. "I would never, _never_ do that to somebody, but I just- I didn't know. She hid it so well- God, I found a picture of the two of them, her and her husband, one day in her apartment, and she told me it was her fucking _brother."_

"-Holy shit-" Derek blurted out.

"Yeah," Stiles said with a bitter laugh. "Holy shit."

Derek offered Stiles a tissue again, and this time he took it, giving Derek a small but grateful smile.

"-Anyway," Stiles said, attempting to collect himself, dabbing at his eyes with the tissue, "these motherfuckers must have thought I knew about Sophia's husband, either that or they just didn't care. I guess- I guess the husband hired them- and I don't know if they were trying to rough me up or to kill me. But they spent the whole fucking night alternating between beating on me and showing me pictures of Sophia's husband and fucking _children,_ Derek, did I tell you she has children? Cause I sure as fuck didn't know she had kids!"

Stiles was starting to get hysterical then, and Derek could practically see the fire in his eyes.

"-I guess their goal was just to get some revenge on behalf of her stupid husband and make sure I never see Sophia again," Stiles said, eyes squeezed shut, one hand clenched into a fist. "-And, well, I guess they got their wish, because I'm never going near that stupid fucking bitch ever again."

Stiles took a loud exhale then, and Derek could tell he was finally finished as he attempted to sit back in his chair. He could tell Stiles was trying to look calm and relaxed, but he was still stiff and rigid, and his mouth was pressed into a hard line. Derek watched as he pulled out his lighter and pack of cigarettes, watched as his fingers shook so bad he couldn't even open the carton- and in less than a second, Derek had pulled Stiles close to him, wrapping his arms around him as he broke down.

"-I'm sorry," Stiles all but sobbed, and God, Derek could actually _feel_ his heart breaking.

"It's okay, Stiles, it's okay. You're okay," Derek said. He could feel Stiles clutching onto him, holding on for dear life, and Derek- Derek just squeezed him right back. _Screw his manliness, screw his alpha-ness. Screw everything._

If being an Alpha meant he couldn't be there for Stiles, couldn't cry with him...than he didn't want to be one.

Derek felt a tear slip down his cheek, an actual tear, and he realized he was actually crying, crying for the first time since Alex was born.

Derek figured he should've felt like a total pussy at that point, like a pansy, like a big baby. But at that point, right then and there, with Stiles in his arms, all Derek felt was _free._

"God, Derek," Stiles said, pulling away from Derek's embrace for a moment, backing away far enough to look him in the eye. "I am so fucked up, aren't I?"

Derek met Stiles eyes, staring right at him, through him- green eyes piercing into Stiles' brown ones.

"The world is fucked up, Stiles," Derek said softly, running a hand through Stiles' hair. "Not you. Never you."

And with that, Stiles collapsed into his arms, crying softly.

Derek held him there- frozen in place, frozen in time- until eventually the sun rose up over the trees in the horizon, and suddenly there was light.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Derek woke up to the feeling of fingers poking at his chest, and he could sense Stiles hovering above him before he even opened his eyes.

" _Good morning, sleeping beauty_ ," Stiles whispered mockingly, hot breath on Derek's neck, and Derek suddenly jolted awake.

"What do you want?" Derek groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"I would like to make a request," Stiles said, grinning down at Derek excitedly, and for a moment Derek thought that Stiles might jump out on top of him.

"Alright, shoot," Derek said groggily.

"-So I couldn't sleep," Stiles said casually, watching as Derek frowned in worry, "So I've kinda just been sitting here bored for three hours while you snored your damn ass off all night."

Derek felt his cheeks turn red. "Sorry."

"Not a problem, man. Although you should know you sound frighteningly similar to a donkey in heat-"

"So you really didn't sleep at all?" Derek asked, eyes flooded with concern. He looked over Stiles then, taking in the deep shadows and bags underneath his eyes, and _God_ , he was so pale it was almost painful to look at.

"Not really," Stiles sighed, and Derek could've slapped himself right then and there. _Of course_ he couldn't sleep. With all that Stiles had been through the past few days- Hell, with all he's been through his whole _life-_ it was a wonder that Stiles could ever even sleep at all.

"-But anyway," Stiles said, inching closer to Derek, "I've kinda been sitting here bored for a really long time, sooo I was kinda wondering- would you mind if I played us a little mood music?"

Derek pouted, crossing his arms. "That depends."

"On what?"

"Well, if the songs are gonna be total shit, I'd appreciate you _at least_ letting me know ahead of time-"

"- _Hey_!" Stiles shouted, clearly offended. "For your information, my playlist is the fucking _bomb."_

" _Sure_ ," Derek said, unconvinced.

"Maybe you've just got shitty taste in music," Stiles said harshly.

"Maybe I just like the classics," Derek replied haughtily.

"Or _maybe_ deep down your just a crotchety old man who only listen to Simon and Garfunkel records. And has 7 cats. And crochets them all teeny, tiny sweaters-"

"Okay, okay, I get the point!" Derek huffed, shaking his head, but unable to control the smile that was threatening to take over on his face.

"So you admit that you're basically an old fogey with worse music taste than my grandpa?"

"Only if you admit that the music you like is all complete trash," Derek challenged.

Stiles looked Derek over then, and Derek could tell that the boy was getting an idea in his head. He could practically see the lightbulbs going off in Stiles' brain.

"Hey- wanna make a bet?"

"What kind of bet?"

Stiles smirked. "I bet I can find _one_ song that you like," Stiles said, raising his eyebrows. "Maybe even one song that you _love_."

"Yeah, I doubt that," Derek said, challenging him.

"So you're in?"

Derek thought it over for a moment before holding out his hand for Stiles to shake. "You're on, Stilinski."

Stiles reached over, grasping Derek's hand tightly in his own and shaking it spastically in a way that was so completely and utterly _Stiles_ that Derek couldn't help but laugh. " _Alright, it's on like fucking Donkey Kong!"_

Derek just shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Hey, I see that look," Stiles said, giving Derek a glare. Derek watched as Stiles pulled his iPod out of his pocket and began scrolling through his playlist. "You'll see, you cheeky bastard, I'm gonna wipe that smirk right off your face-"

Derek was surprised for a moment, pausing- _he hadn't even realized he was smiling._

Stiles scrolled and scrolled through his playlist for a minute before finally coming to a stop, and Derek could tell he had found what he was looking for by the way his finger hovered over the play button.

"Oh Deeeerek."

"Yes, Stiles?"

"Would you kill me if I started singing Life Is A Highway right now?"

"I would throw you out on your ass right now," Derek said, not missing a beat.

"-And I imagine all Tom Cochrane songs are too much fun for your crotchety old ass, correct?"

"Correct."

"You suck," Stiles muttered under his breath. "-But you'll see, Hale, you'll see. I'm gonna find you a song so undeniably awesome that even _you_ will have to sing along."

"I doubt it, but go ahead. Thrill me," Derek deadpanned.

Stiles muttered something profanity-ridden under his breath once again as he scrolled through his iPod, and Derek had to laugh at the intense concentration, the way his eyebrow furrowed as he scrolled, obviously deep in thought.

It took Stiles a few minutes this time, but eventually he stopped scrolling and looked up, staring at Derek with bright, wide eyes.

"Oh Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"You wouldn't be opposed to a little musical magic from the King of Pop, now, would you?"

Derek just frowned in response. "Who's that?"

Stiles' eyes popped out of his head almost comically. "What do you mean, _who's that?"_ he asked, unable to hide his amusement. "Do you live under a fucking _rock?"_

"Jesus, I don't know," Derek said defensively, hugging his arms to his chest. "Is he popular right now, or-"

"Oh, for God's sake," Stiles said, shaking his head. "You really are that clueless, aren't you?"

Derek could feel his face heating up again, and he decided to at least take a stab at it. "Is it that Little Mix guy? 'Cause I think he's just _fantastic-"_

_"What?_ Fuck no!" Stiles shouted, clearly exasperated. "It's Michael Jackson, you dumbass! God, do you even know what music is?"

"-Oh," Derek said, a wave of embarrassment instantly washing over him. "-Well, I don't know if he's really _the_ king of pop."

"He is," Stiles said, slapping his hand to his forehead and letting out a sigh. "He fucking is. Take my word for it."

"I disagree."

Stiles just sighed again, louder this time. "It's kinda just a fact Derek, Jesus Christ."

"That's your opinion," Derek replied stubbornly.

"-You know what?" Stiles said suddenly, pressing a button on his iPod. "-I'm not gonna argue with you. I'm just gonna play you one of his songs, and that way you can see for yourself."

"Fine, play your crappy song," Derek said, turning away from Stiles to pout.

Stiles pressed the play button on his iPod and turned up the volume, and all of a sudden the loud sound of percussion, piano and Michael Jackson's silky vocals were flooding through the car.

Derek recognized the song a little bit after the first verse, but he didn't _really_ remember it until the chorus. Once the first chorus hit, Stiles was suddenly singing along at the top of his lungs, his voice high-pitched and raspy in Derek's ears, but somehow it was still absolutely, undeniably perfect.

 

" _The way you're making me feel-_

_You're really turning me on_

_You knock me off of my feet_

_My lonely days are gone."_

 

Stiles was singing along to all of the lyrics now, getting louder and more into it as the song went on. By the second verse Stiles was really belting it out, and on the third line of the chorus Stiles grabbed Derek by the shirt, pulling him close, serenading him. In that moment Derek could feel Stiles, smell him; could practically taste the peppermint on his breath. He felt a shock of electricity like lightning flow through his body, and for a moment Derek thought that this all must have been a dream. Only it couldn't have been, because Derek had never had a dream that had even come anywhere close to this. Not even a little fucking close.

Stiles sang his little heart out for a solid 4 minutes before the song finally ended, and Stiles collapsed tiredly back into his seat. It took him a second to catch his breath from singing so loudly for so long, but when he finally did he turned right to Derek, a satisfied smile plastered on his face.

"Well?" he asked, the smugness practically leaping off of him.

Derek couldn't help but smile right back at him, if only to see Stiles' face light up in return.

"You were right."

"Damn right I was," Stiles said cockily.

"All I can say is, long live the king."

"-He's dead, Derek. He's fucking _dead."_

_"Oh."_

 

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

They were 500 miles away from Boston when Derek's phone rang; buzzing so violently that it almost fell off of the dashboard.

"Jesus! That startled me," Stiles said, grabbing the phone and handing it to Derek right before it fell to the floor. "You gonna answer it?"

"I probably should," Derek sighed before bringing the phone to his ear.

Stiles muted the volume on his iPod then as he tried to listen in on Derek's phone call, being the nosy bastard that he was. Stiles could barely make out the voice on the other line- Derek's volume must've been low- but from what Stiles could tell, it sounded like a female- possibly an Alpha?

Stiles watched as Derek spoke into the phone, his voice low.  

"Hello- Hi, Aunt Rachel- I'm okay- alright, what is it? Is something wrong- oh. Oh- shit-"

Derek ran his hands through his hair and pulled it frantically, taking a sharp, deep breath. Stiles heard some mumbling from the other end of the phone, and all of a sudden Derek was getting up out of the car.

Stiles could only watch as Derek walked out in front of the car, his face turning pale as he paced back and forth along the side of the road.

Stiles considered walking over and seeing if Derek was alright or not, but before he had the chance Derek was shoving the phone back into his pocket and climbing into the car, slamming the door behind him.

The car was silent for a moment as Derek pressed his face against the steering wheel, taking in a shuddering breath.

"...Derek?"

Derek didn't answer, just seemed to slump even further into the steering wheel.

"Derek? Are you okay?"

Derek turned to face Stiles then, and Stiles was immediately taken aback by how rigid Derek looked; his jaw clenched tight and his hands balled up into fists.

"My dad is dead."

Stiles' eyes went wide, his mouth gaping open, unable to move- unable to do fucking _anything_.

"Oh my God, Derek, I'm so sorry."

Derek just shook his head, and all of a sudden he was laughing bitterly to himself, a laugh just crazy enough to cause Stiles concern.

"-So we came all this way, thousands of fucking miles, and the motherfucker just drops dead- just like that."

Stiles just stared at Derek, feeling a chill pass through him.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Derek said, squeezing his eyes shut. "I mean- that's all he's ever done my whole life- all he's ever done is let me down and disappoint me. Why stop now, right?"

"Derek-"

"Don't look at me like that," Derek said darkly, inching away from Stiles. "I don't need your pity."

Stiles wanted to rip in to Derek then, call him out for his rudeness, but he stopped himself.

"Derek," Stiles said as gently as he could ,talking to him the same way he would talk to a child. "- You know I'm not trying to pity you or look down on you, I would never do that. I just want to help-"

"-I don't need help," Derek said, crossing his arms.

"I know you don't," Stiles said, eyes glued to the floor of the car. "But if you want to talk-"

"-I don't-"

"Okay-"

"-And I never will," Derek said. "That part of my life is over now. You know what? I'm glad the fucker is dead. Now I'll never have to think about him again."

"-I don't think that's how it works, Derek," Stiles said sadly, shooting Derek a worried glance.

"I'm just- you know what, Stiles? I'm _happy,"_ Derek said, his tone acidic. "I'm glad that ass clown is dead. At least now he can't fuck me up anymore. You know what? I feel- I feel _free."_

Stiles looked over at Derek then, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white, and Stiles thought that Derek looked like a lot of things- but he was certainly not free. Trapped, caged, tortured, maybe- but not free.

"-So what do we do now?" Stiles asked, his voice surprisingly small.

Derek looked at him then, a glint in his eye, and Stiles couldn't tell if he was excited by it or afraid of it.

"I guess we're going home, Stiles. I guess we're going home."


	11. Chapter 11

_"This one, daddy! This one!" Alex had shouted, tugging on Derek's jacket. "I want this one."_

  _They were standing in a crowded aisle at the local Toys R Us, and God- Derek would've rather been anywhere but here. The shrieking kids, the stressed out parents, the constant screeches of "I want it!" and "Please, mommy?"_

_To say that Derek wasn't exactly enjoying himself was a bit of an understatement._

_Derek walked over to whatever his son was pointing at, nearly tripping over a toy xylophone in the process._

_Fuck this store._

_"See daddy? I want that one. That one!"_

_Derek looked up to see where his son's tiny finger was pointing, his blue eyes staring at the object reverently, awestruck, as though it held all of the answers to the universe._

_Derek looked over to see his son pointing up at a big, green ride-on truck, complete with a built-in motor, a car radio, and - 4 wheel drive? Seriously?_

_Derek raised his eyebrows at his son, but- well, he could definitely see the appeal. The truck, objectively, was kind of awesome. It was forest green with huge wheels, darkened windows, silver rims- the whole nine yards. It practically screamed cool._

_"Can I get it, daddy? Please? I want it!" Alex shrieked, and of fucking course. Derek was often impressed by his son's usual politeness and respect, but none of those virtues applied when his boy was in the presence of a toy he wanted. He was only 2 and a half years old, after all. There was only so long he could go without throwing a tantrum._

_Derek was about to say yes- anything for his boy, of course- and then he looked at the price tag._

_Derek's eyes widened as he looked back up at the toy truck. It was cool, of course, probably the most advanced toy truck on the market- but was it really worth $600?_

_"Hold on," was all Derek could say as he went to find an employee. Derek approached a teenage girl, a beta, wearing one of those blue vests that they made all of the employees wear._

_"Excuse me," Derek said as politely as he could. "I was wondering if you could check the price of something for me."_

_"Sure!" The girl said eagerly._

_"You see that big green truck up there?" Derek asked, pointing to it's position at the top of the shelf._

_"Hold on, let me check that for you."  Derek could only watch as the girl got on a ladder in the corner, reaching up to grab the giant toy truck. Underneath her, there were plenty of other toy ride-on trucks, all in the $200-400 range, all perfectly in her reach. But noooo- of course his son only wanted the $600 one, the one on the highest fucking shelf of them all. The one completely and utterly out of reach. Of fucking course._

_The employee was finally able to reach the truck after climbing to the top of the step-ladder, and she swiftly pulled out her price-scanner and scanned the barcode. Derek just waited there, hands in his pockets, eyes still glued to the monumental price tag that he almost couldn't believe._

_"Okay," the girl said, putting the scanner back in her pocket. "This one comes to $599.99."_

_"Seriously?" Derek said, unable to hide his shock. "This- this thing is really $600?"_

_The girl just looked up at him and blinked. "$599.99."_

_Jesus Christ._

_Derek looked over at the toy again, reading the description on the box._

_4 Wheel Drive....Built-in motor.... realistic horn and engine sounds...rubber traction strips...Up to 5 miles per hour forward and reverse speed....coolest kid on the block..._

_....There was no doubt it was the best, the absolute best, and wasn't that what he wanted for his son? Wasn't that the promise that he made to him when he was born, holding his boy's tiny hand in his own?_

_But still...$600?_

_Derek pulled the employee aside, giving her a meaningful look._

_"Come on- level with me here," Derek said, his eyes pleading. "-There's no way that thing is actually worth $600."_

_The girl just scowled. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't set the prices and I can't change them. If you have any concerns, feel free to e-mail our corporate-"_

_"-I know, I know, believe me. I used to work in retail, I get it," Derek said. "But- please. Isn't there some kind of coupon or discount or something?"_

_"I'm sorry, sir, but unless you have a printed coupon with you I can't-"_

_"I know you can't," Derek sighed. "Just- please. My son- he doesn't ask for anything. He really doesn't, and all he wants is that one truck. There has to be some way-"_

_"I'm sorry," the girl said, and Derek thought she actually did look sorry, not that it mattered. "There's nothing that I can do. I can show you some more affordable similar toys if you'd like-"_

_"No- no, that's okay-" Derek said, his voice low. "I'll just- I'm okay. thank you very much."_

_Derek walked over to his son then, who was still standing by the truck on the top shelf, and prepared for the inevitable. His heart sank and his gut clenched as he imagined what would go down, as he prepared for his son's tears, his own lame excuse, the admittance that he couldn't afford to get his son the one thing that he wanted._

_A feeling of shame so strong, so powerful, so earth-shatteringly devastating hit Derek right then and there, hitting him right in the pit of his stomach._

_Looking over at his son- His son, who's eyes were sparkling as they looked up at the one thing he wanted, the one thing he couldn't have- Derek was hit with the overwhelming feeling of failure. Absolute failure._

_Derek Hale was a failure._

_He was a failure as a man and as an Alpha._

_Most of all, he was a failure as a father._

_He could almost handle being less than a man, less than an Alpha, but being a shitty father?_

_No._

_The thought alone was physically revolting, and suddenly he was sick to his stomach._

_He walked over to his son slowly, his head hanging down, barely able to face him. Derek looked down at him, saw those bright, happy blue eyes, and didn't think his heart could take seeing those eyes fill with tears, that innocent, beautiful face crushed._

_"Daddy?" Alex asked, and God- Derek didn't even know what to say._

_"I want the truck, daddy. I want it. Can I have it?"_

_Derek squeezed his eyes shut. "No, Alex."_

_Derek's eyes were closed, but he could still picture the way his son's little chin wobbled, the way his bright blue eyes filled with tears._

_"But why daddy? I want it!"_

_Derek balled his hands up into fists._

_There were a million things he could've said right then and there, tons of things, many of them completely honest._

_It was just too much money. There were other toys, other ride on cars just as nice that were about $200 less. He needed that $600 to pay his bills, to buy groceries, to keep a roof over his head, over all of their heads._

_He couldn't afford it, simple as that. He was only a truck driver- he made enough money to live, sure, but most weeks he lived paycheck to paycheck._

_He was a failure, plain and simple. His son deserved the universe, the world on a silver platter, and Derek couldn't even afford to buy him a shitty toy truck._

_In the end, Derek didn't say any of those things. Simply gulped, took a deep breath, and grabbed his son's hand._

_"It's too dangerous," Derek said, careful to keep his voice steady, authoritative- something a good parent would do. Not that he would know._

_"But daddy! Daddy I want it! I want it! I-"_

_"-Let's go, Alex. It's time to go."_

 

_\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

They were on their way back to California then, still 20,000 miles from home. Derek was just pulling out of a drive-thru, and Stiles was talking his ear off as usual in between sips of a McDonald's shake.

"...So you're telling me that you really won't eat _anything_ from McDonald's?"

"Nope."

"Damn," Stiles said, looking at Derek like he had two heads. "But the fries are so good, man!"

"If you enjoy overly- salted, glorified cardboard, than I imagine they would be."

"Okay," Stiles said, shaking his head. "-So where do you go for fast food then, Mister I'm-too-good-for-McDonalds?"

"I don't eat fast food."

"Seriously? Never?" Stiles asked incredulously, and Derek could tell that Stiles didn't quite believe him.

"Yup," Derek replied drily, taking a bite out of a protein bar he picked up at a convenience store a few states back.

"I don't believe that," Stiles said, dipping a french fry into his shake. "So what do you do if your like, on the road and you're literally starving?"

"First of all, why would you make something as shitty as a McDonald's shake even more shitty by putting a french fry in it?"

Stiles gave him a death glare. "It's delicious, you judgmental prick."

"I doubt it, but enjoy your garbage," Derek said moodily. "But to answer your question- I usually just wait until I get home."

"But what if your seriously dying of starvation?"

Derek readjusted his sunglasses. "Willpower is a powerful thing, Stiles. You should try it sometime."

"Oh, fuck you," Stiles said, but there was no bite to it.

Derek just shrugged and smiled slyly like the asshole that he was.

"So you really won't even go to like a Dunkin Donuts and grab a coffee or something?"

"...No, I'll get a coffee on occasion," Derek replied.

"Ha! I knew there was something out there that was acceptable to the taste buds of the great Derek Hale."

"-But I only drink Starbucks."

"Oooof course you do," Stiles replied, rolling his eyes. "Let me guess, no pastries for captain fitness?"

"Nope," Derek said, frowning at the thought of even considering consuming one of those fatty, sugary death-traps. "Just a large black coffee. Iced coffee in the summer."

"You are sooo fucking _typical,"_ Stiles said, giving Derek a smirk. "That's literally _exactly_ what I would've guessed."

"Alright, my turn," Derek said moodily, crossing his arms. "Let me guess, your Starbucks order is- what? 5 brownies and some girly Frappuccino?"

"Okay, first of all, Starbucks sucks," Stiles said, pouting. "And second of all, I don't even know what a Frappuccino is, but it sounds disgusting."

"Okay, fair enough," Derek said. "So what's a typical Dunkin order for Stiles Stilinski?"

"Oh, that's easy," Stiles said, "I always get the same thing, every time man. Two glazed Bavarian Cream donuts and a caramel mocha iced latte. Always."

As soon as it came out of Stiles mouth, before he knew what he was doing, Derek was jamming his foot harshly on the breaks. Derek was wearing a seatbelt, but Stiles wasn't- and Derek could only watch as Stiles was thrown violently into the dashboard.

"Stiles!"

"-Ow- what the Hell, Derek!"

"Are you okay?"

Stiles had bounced back into his seat now, but he was still cringing and cradling his injured arm, and Derek still felt like a complete and total jackass.

"Jesus Christ, Derek!" Stiles shouted, gripping his plastic cup firmly in his hands. "You could've gotten us killed!"

"I'm sorry-"

"Jesus, I didn't know my Dunkin order offended you that much-"

Derek just shook his head, laughing a bitter little laugh.

"I'm sorry," Derek repeated, shaking his head. "It's just- man. Bavarian Cream donuts, huh?"

"Uh- yeah?" Stiles said, looking at Derek like he was crazy. "You got a problem with them?"

"No-it's just- I thought my fucking dad was the only person who actually liked those shitty things," Derek said, shaking his head, still laughing to himself. "The world's shittiest donuts for the world's shittiest father. That's how I remembered it."

Stiles just stared at Derek for a moment, mouth hanging open a little.

"You know what's really fucking crazy?"

"What?" Stiles asked, somewhat worried by the glint in Derek's eye.

"...It's been 20 years, I hate the fucking bastard, he's fucking _dead_ now- and I still remember his- his fuckin' drive thru order."

Stiles just gulped, watching as Derek gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"-One Bavarian Cream donut, a small black coffee, and a side of hash browns."

Derek's voice broke on the last word, and Stiles could tell his lip was starting to quiver. A question came to his mind then, a really fucking intrusive question, one that he knew better than to ask.

Then he took one look at Derek, a tear in the corner of his eye, and- _fuck it._ He needed to know.

"Hey Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

Derek started laughing then, laughing uncontrollably. He just couldn't help it- it was fucking _funny._

"What's so funny?" Stiles asked, glaring right at him.

Derek just gave Stiles a look. "I don't know, Stiles. We've known each other for less than a week and we already know each other's life stories, Hell- I feel like I've known you my entire life. So, yeah, I think you can ask me a personal question."

Stiles broke into a smile for a moment, but only a moment before he became serious again, his mouth a hard line.

"I know," he responded. "But, this is like... _really_ personal. I don't want to cross any lines or boundaries or whatever-"

"-I wasn't aware we had any boundaries," Derek said, giving Stiles a soft smile. "You can ask me anything, you know that, right?"

Stiles just nodded, fidgeting in his seat. "Okay."

"So go ahead. Ask."

Stiles took a deep breath, unable to meet Derek's eyes. "Derek- why did your dad leave you?"

Derek simply shook his head, looking up towards the sky. "I don't know. He never told me- never answered any of my letters after I started asking him questions. One day he was just gone, and that was it."

Stiles just nodded, giving Derek this look of both pity and worry rolled into one that only Stiles could pull off. He looked like he wanted to say something for a moment, but he quickly shut his mouth, staring down at his feet.

"You want to ask me something else?"

"...I don't want to say something that's gonna get me tossed out the car window."

"Ask me whatever you want," Derek said. "It's not like I have anything to hide."

"Okay," Stiles said, taking a deep breath. "...Derek?"

"Yes?"

"...Why did you leave your son?"

Derek squeezed his eyes shut, jerking his head away from Stiles so quickly that he nearly gave himself whiplash.

"Oh God- that was totally out of line- I'm so sorry, Derek. Me and my big stupid mouth...Look, forget I even-"

"No, it's okay," Derek said, all of the color draining out of his face. "It's a valid question."

Stiles looked over Derek then, noticing the dark shadows under his eyes, and wished he would've just kept his fucking mouth shut.

But by now Stiles was too deep into this, too deep into Derek Hale, and he was way past the point where he could say that he didn't give a damn.

Stiles' eyes went wide as the shocking realization hit him. _He cared about Derek. He really, actually cared about him._

Stiles reached out to Derek then, placing a hand on his knee.

Stiles' needed to know now- not because he was nosy, not because he was curious. He needed to know what happened because he cared, he cared what happened to Derek- and he promised himself at that moment that he was going to help Derek, no matter what it took.

He would be there for him, plain and simple. Whenever and whatever he needed, Stiles would be there.

"Derek?" he asked quietly, gently, rubbing his hand on Derek's knee to comfort him. "What made you- why did you decide to leave?"

Derek turned his gaze towards Stiles then, but he couldn't look him in the eye.

"I couldn't provide for him, Stiles. I'm a fucking truck driver, and- Alex deserved better than what I could give him. I just- I couldn't deal with the fact that one day he would grow up, and he'd be disappointed in me, maybe even ashamed of me."

Stiles only nodded, biting his lower lip, a question on the tip of his tongue that he just couldn't seem to get out.

Finally, after a moment, Stiles got up the nerve he needed- and so he asked.

"You ever regret it?"

Derek paused for a second, seemingly frozen in place- and then, only then, would Derek meet his eyes.

"Only every second of every day," Derek said, and Stiles got the impression that it was the most honest statement that he had ever made.

Stiles was immediately struck by what Derek had said, how open he was- and  _God,_ that must have been difficult for him. Stiles remembered the promise he had made just a few minutes earlier; a vow to help Derek, no matter what it took. He looked over at Derek then; saw the way his eyes were glistening with tears that he furiously attempted to blink back, and before he knew it Stiles was reaching over and grabbing the steering wheel, pushing Derek's hands out of the way.

"Stiles!" Derek screamed, attempting to get back in control of the car, but Stiles wouldn't let him. "Are you crazy! You're going to get us both killed!"

"-We're not going home, Derek," Stiles said firmly, and there was a finality in his voice, an inherent _Alpha-ness_ that shut Derek right up.

"What are you talking about?" Derek asked, watching as Stiles took over, turning the car around and getting back on the road. "Where are we going?"

"We're not going home," Stiles repeated, a fire in his eyes as he practically forced Derek out of the driver's seat.

Derek gave Stiles' a mean glare but still moved out of his way, trading placing and crawling over to the passenger's seat.

"Where are we going?" Derek asked once more.

Stiles just kept his eyes glued to the road, more focused, more present, more _alive_   than he had ever been.

"We're going to see your son."


	12. Chapter 12

"You liar!" Stiles shouted, punching Derek playfully on the arm. They were only 500 miles away from Anna's house now, and Stiles was getting restless.

"I never lied," Derek said, crossing his arms.

"You said that I win the bet if I can find a song you like, and you liked that Michael Jackson song!"

"I said I liked it, sure, but I never said I _loved_ it," Derek said, "and I'm pretty sure that's what we agreed upon."

"Oh my God, you are _such_ a pain in the ass," Stiles sighed. "But fine. I'll find a song even your cold, dead heart will love."

"That's all I ask."

"Alright," Stiles said, a cocky grin emerging on his face as he pulled out his iPod. "...I better you're a sucker for Kendrick Lamar. And please, don't tell me you don't know who that is-"

"-Oh, we're doing this _now?"_ Derek asked, his face twisting up in a grimace.

"-Uh, I mean...yeah. Why not now?"

"I'm just- can't we do this later?" Derek asked, scratching his head awkwardly. "I'm really not in the mood to listen to music right now. My head's kind of all over the place."

"Am I bothering you?" Stiles asked, his mouth twisting up strangely.

"What-no, Stiles-"

"-'Cause if I'm starting to get on your nerves- I totally get that. I know I can be a little hyper-"

"-A _little_ hyper?"

"-Okay, okay, so I'm practically the poster-boy for ADHD. I get it, Jesus," Stiles said. "But anyway, if I've been too loud or too...whatever- I'm sorry."

Derek just shook his head, instantly feeling guilty. "You don't need to apologize to me Stiles," Derek said. "You haven't been bothering me at all- just the opposite actually. At this point, I'm pretty sure you're the only thing still keeping me sane. I'm just- I guess I'm just worried.

Stiles just nodded, understanding. He looked over at Derek, noticing the sweat starting to drip down his brow, the fear in his eyes.

"Thinking about your son?"

Derek just sighed loudly, putting his head in his hands.

"I need to get him that truck," Derek muttered, mostly to himself.

"What?" Stiles asked, barely hearing him.

Derek continued looking out at the road, careful not to turn to Stiles. "I need to get my son a toy truck."

"...Okay?" Stiles said. "He must _really_ like trucks, huh?"

Derek just gulped, nodding his head.

"Okay, hold on- my phone is saying that there's a Target down the street from here-"

"-No," Derek said suddenly, his mouth a hard line. "His truck- the truck that he wants- it's only sold at Toys R Us. We need to go to Toys R Us."

Stiles just narrowed his eyes at him. "So it _needs_ to be that specific truck?"

"Yeah," Derek said softly, his mind racing. "It has to be."

"Damn," Stiles said, shaking his head. "Your boy is _picky."_

Derek's nostril's flared. "And why shouldn't he be picky?" Derek asked, his voice harsh. "He deserves whatever he wants. He deserves the best, and _only_ the best."

"Okay, okay," Stiles said, putting up his hands in surrender, placating Derek. "We can go to Toys R Us. Jesus."

Derek felt his anger deflate a bit, and he turned to see Stiles frowning at him.

"Look, I'm sorry-" Derek said, sounding exhausted all of a sudden. "It's just- it's hard to explain, but I need to get him that exact truck. Can't be anything else."

Stiles looked into his eyes then, really looked at them. Derek's eyes met his, and Stiles could see the urgency there, the desperation.

"...Alright," Stiles said, scrolling through his phone. "...According to Google, the next Toys R Us is about 40 minutes away."

"-You up for a little adventure?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow at Stiles.

"-Only if you buy me a Pokémon, sir."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 "Ha! Sweet!" Stiles shouted, running towards the videogame aisle of the Toys R Us at full speed. "I didn't know they _actually_ had Pokémon- I was just kidding before, but now I'm pretty sure you _actually_ have to buy me one."

"Sure, Stiles. Sure thing," Derek said, obviously sarcastic.

"Which one are they on now? Pokémon Sapphire? Pokémon Ruby? Pokémon Emerald- man, if they keep going like this they're going to run out of gemstones!"

"Calm down, Stiles, for the love of God," Derek sighed, watching as Stiles eyed the videogame case with a childlike fascination. Derek was suddenly grateful that the videogames were censored and locked behind the glass; otherwise he would've had to check Stiles pockets every 5 minutes for stolen goods.

"I know, I know, but- seriously, have you _seen_ this place?" Stiles asked, moving over to examine the newest version of the PlayStation. "They've got fucking _everything."_

"Uh, yeah, I have," Derek said, looking at Stiles like he was crazy. "Ever been to a mall before Stiles?"

Stiles looked down then, scratching his head awkwardly. "Sorry, man- it's just- I didn't exactly frequent these kinds of places when I was a kid, you know?"

Derek had to look away, casting his gaze in the direction of the cash registers. He felt like a moron- _of course_ Stiles would be fascinated by the toy store. His mom was a prostitute, dirt poor for most of her life- and from what he'd heard from Stiles it didn't sound like she'd exactly had the kind of lifestyle that allowed for leisurely shopping trips with her son. Derek felt a wave of pity wash over him as he realized that this was probably the first time Stiles had ever walked into a toy store- had ever experienced the childhood wonder of it all. And to top it all off- Stiles was basically still just a kid himself.

Standing there in the toy store, watching Stiles eyes shine at the sight of each new videogame- the reminder was so obvious that it was painful. Stiles was so immature in a lot of ways, so loud and goofy, so rebellious and troubled- but deep down, he was still just a boy who never really had a childhood.

Derek was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of Stiles calling for him excitedly.

"Yo, Derek! Come over here!"

Derek walked over to where Stiles was stationed in front of a huge flat-screen TV, a PlayStation controller in his hand.

"Yeah?" Derek asked.

"The new Mario game just came out, and it looks sick," Stiles said, gesturing to the game on the screen in front of him. It appeared to be set up for customers to be able to try out the game.

Derek got an idea then, a devious smile spreading over his face.

"Are you any good at videogames, Stiles?"

Stiles looked insulted that he even had to ask. "Are you kidding? I'm the best. Especially at Zelda or FIFA, but I could kick anyone's ass at Mario, too."

"Does that include me?" Derek asked, raising his eyebrows at Stiles.

"Of course it does, old man," Stiles said, his eyes sparkling at the challenge.

"You wanna bet, kid?" Derek asked, crossing his arms. 

"I'm surprised you even know what a PlayStation is, Grandpa," Stiles taunted.

"-So is that a yes? Or is the little omega too scared?" Derek said playfully, adding fuel to the fire.

Stiles only held out his hand to Derek, a brazen glint in his eyes. "You're on, motherfucker."

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"Oh my God, you _suck!_ What the fuck, Derek?" Stiles said, practically throwing his controller across the room.

"What?" Derek asked innocently. "I didn't do anything

"You play dirty, you bastard."

""I came here to win, Stiles." 

"Are you for real?" Stiles asked exasperatedly, watching the "GAME OVER" print scroll across the screen. "I want a rematch."

"Two words for you, Stiles," Derek said harshly. "Sore. Loser."

"I am not!"

"Just admit it," Derek said, elbowing Stiles in the ribcage. "You're just not the 'videogame God' that you thought you were. Not that that's anything to be ashamed of-"

"-Screw you, you arrogant piece of shit," Stiles said angrily. "This just isn't the right game, that's all. I'd school you in Call of Duty, no question. Your ass would be dead in all of three seconds."

"You wanna bet?" Derek asked, reaching for the Call of Duty case next to the PlayStation.

"Pop it in, Derek, and prepare to lose-"

"- _Excuse me?"_

Derek and Stiles both spun around abruptly at the unfamiliar voice calling to them. Derek sighed as he saw one of the employees, a short redhead beta with glasses, walking over to him- more like _marching_ over to him- looking all hot and bothered.

"Excuse me," the employee repeated, his voice a tad harsh for Derek's liking, "But we have a half-hour time limit on our testing consoles, and that includes the PlayStation. There are two young boys over there who say they've been waiting for you two to finish for _over two hours."_

Derek just blinked at him, watching as Stiles' face turned pink. "Oh," he stammered awkwardly, "...I guess we lost track of time."

"I guess you did," the employee said impatiently, giving both Stiles and Derek a look.

"-Sorry," Derek mumbled, moving away from the PlayStation and dragging Stiles along with him. "We're leaving now- wait!"

"Yes?" the employee asked, crossing his arms.

"You work here, right?"

The beta just rolled his eyes, gesturing to the bright blue Toys R Us nametag plastered to his vest. "I guess I do, either that or I got a really fuckin' horrible sense of fashion."

At that, Stiles started cracking up, his eyes crinkling as he laughed- and Derek couldn't help but think it was adorable. "Hey, I like this guy!"

"-Alright, I get it, you work here and you don't want to be bothered," Derek said, narrowing his eyes. Two could play at this game. "-I'm not trying to annoy you. All I want is to ask if you have a specific toy in stock."

The employee rolled his eyes again, and God- Derek really wanted to throttle this prepubescent dweeb.

_Not today, Derek. Not today._

"...Alright...I _guess_ I can check for you," the beta said, pulling out some kind of scanning device. "What do you need?"

Derek took a deep breath, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Uh, well- it's this big, green, ride-on truck...you know, the battery powered ones that the toddlers ride around on? It's pretty huge- had tinted windows- I think it was one of the most expensive ones."

The clerk just nodded. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure we still have a couple of those left. Follow me."

Derek and Stiles followed the clerk through the videogame aisle, past the board games and the arts and crafts, until finally they reached the outdoor section. The employee led them down an aisle filled with bicycles and toy cars, and Derek felt his heart speed up, praying that the green truck was still there.

"Alright, here we are. Right up on the top shelf."

Derek looked up then, almost afraid to open his eyes, but when he finally did he breathed a huge sigh of relief. There, on the top shelf as always, was the green toy truck. It still looked as cool, as stylish, as completely beyond his reach as it did 2 years ago.

Derek smiled giddily to himself for a moment, proud of himself for finding it- but then reality set in, and his face settled back into a hard line.

"How much?" Derek asked, balling up his hands into fists.

"Pretty sure this one is $650," the clerk said, pulling out the scanner. "...Yup, $649.99."

Derek squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a familiar hot wave of shame rush over him.

_This was not fucking happening to him again._

And yet, it was.

It was happening again because Derek only had $329 dollars in his savings account, and a measly $40 in his checking. 

It was happening again because Derek was but a lowly truck driver, forever living paycheck to paycheck, trapped in a dead-end job and an endless cycle of debt.

It was happening because Derek was a failure; a failure as a father and as an Alpha. A failure that couldn't even provide for his own son-

Derek was brought out of his inner consuming thoughts of self-pity when Stiles turned to the clerk abruptly, pulling out his wallet dramatically and slamming it on the counter.

"We'll take it!"

"-Stiles!" Derek shouted, completely caught off guard.

"What?" Stiles asked, obviously annoyed.

"May I have a word with you?"

"I mean, I guess- hey!"

Stiles didn't have time to finish his sentence as Derek grabbed him and dragged him over to the corner of the aisle, away from the judgmental eyes of the rude store clerk.

"What the Hell, Stiles!" Derek said once he was sure they were out of earshot.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Stiles asked angrily. "You're the one who literally  _dragged_   me over here like some psychotic, possessive old-world alpha. And you _know_ I don't like to be manhandled."

Derek looked into Stiles eyes then, seeing his furious expression, and forced himself to take a deep breath.

"Look- I'm sorry, Stiles," Derek said quietly, exhaling sharply. "It's just- why the Hell did you tell the guy that I was buying that truck?"

"Uh, because you are buying it, duh," Stiles said, as though it was obvious. "I mean, you are buying it...right?"

Derek just looked down at the ground, slouching over awkwardly. It was a completely un-Alpha move, but then again, Derek was never a real Alpha to begin with.

"No," he said simply, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm not buying it."

Derek could only watch as Stiles' face scrunched up in confusion. "But...we came all the way here, 40 minutes out of our way, just for this one stupid fucking toy truck. And now, all of a sudden you don't want it?"

"It's not that," Derek said, feeling the familiar shame, the awful heat in the pit of his stomach.

"Then what is it?"

Stiles watched as Derek blinked a few times, tears starting to form in the corners of his beautiful green eyes.

"...Don't have the money," he mumbled, so quiet that Stiles couldn't hear him.

"What'd you say?"

"I said I don't have the money!" Derek all but yelled, causing Stiles to take a step back in fear. "I can't afford it, Stiles! I'm fucking poor!"

Stiles stared up at Derek then, his mouth gaping open, a hurt expression on his face.

"Derek-"

"What?"

Stiles simply held up his wallet again, rubbing the brown leather in his hands. "You don't seriously think I'd let you come all this way just to _not_ buy that fucking tractor, do you?"

Derek paused for a moment, eyes darting to look at Stiles, then the wallet, then back at Stiles again.

"-I can't afford it, Stiles, I told you, I-"

"-God-Do I have to spell it out for you?" Stiles asked, sighing dramatically. Stiles took one look at the blank expression on Derek's face and slapped his hand to his forehead. "Okay, apparently I do."

"What are you talking about?" Derek asked, still completely in the dark.

"Jesus Christ, you are so clueless," Stiles said, shaking his head. "What I'm saying is- I want to buy that truck for your son."

Derek's jaw dropped, and he was left only to stare at Stiles stupidly, probably looking like a total moron.

"... _What?"_

Stiles shrugged casually. "I'm good for the money. It's no big deal."

"... _Stiles,"_ Derek breathed, still in complete shock. "...No. I couldn't let you do that."

Stiles just scowled, pouting at him. "And why not?"

"I just- I couldn't take your money, Stiles. It's not right-"

"Oh Hell, don't get all high and mighty on me now," Stiles said exasperatedly. "...I don't know what to tell you. Anyways, it's a gift for your son, not for you- so stop looking at me like I'm the damn messiah, okay?"

"...Stiles...you shouldn't- you really shouldn't-"

"Actually, I should," Stiles said, and Derek thought it was the most serious he had ever seen him. "I figure it's the least I could do for you, Derek. I mean- I don't know if you've noticed this, but I kind of owe you my life."

"-That's not true-"

"Oh come on, Derek," Stiles said. "Give yourself some credit. I mean- here I was, somebody's old, used up omega, beat up and left on the side of the road- and you actually stopped to help me. Nobody else- just you."

Derek just nodded, feeling tears brimming in his eyes again.

"Derek- do you know how many cars passed me by that day? How many people saw me there and just _kept fucking driving?"_

Derek just shook his head, watching as Stiles took a breath.

"Probably thousands," Stiles said quietly. "Maybe millions."

Derek just squeezed his eyes shut, picturing Stiles the way he saw him when he first met him- bleeding everywhere and horribly bruised. The image made him sick now, knowing how absolutely fucking _beautiful_ Stiles was, inside and out, and so he forced the image out of his head.

Stiles gave Derek a meaningful look then, meeting Derek's stare.

"I guess what I'm saying is," Stiles said, a small, shy smile slowly emerging on his face, "is that you, Derek, are one in a million."

"- _Stiles."_

"-Let me finish," Stiles said, holding up his hand. "-Anyway, what I'm saying...I guess what I'm saying- what I'm saying is that Alphas have treated me like shit my whole life. Walked all over me, used me, didn't give a shit about me. But you- you're different. You're not like other Alpha's Derek, as much as you try to be. You're not- and you know what? I'm fucking _glad_ you're not. You're not just some brainless, meathead jock who's only interested in fucking as many omegas as possible, and that's a good thing Derek, a really fucking good thing. As hard as you try to fight it- you're not like the rest of those assholes, Derek. You're kind, and gentle, and caring, and sweet, and a damn fucking good Alpha. And that's- that's why I need to buy you this piece of shit toy truck. Okay?"

Derek just stared at Stiles- mouth gaping, eyes watering, heart pounding. All of a sudden, he took Stiles in his arms, nearly crushing him with the sheer force of his embrace.

"Woah, Derek," Stiles laughed awkwardly, "Didn't know you were a hugger."

"-Shut up, Stiles," Derek said, squeezing Stiles closer to him, completely enveloping his thin, lanky frame.

"...Alright, that's enough," Stiles said, pretending he didn't enjoy the warmth of Derek's body, the spicy smell his shampoo. "Time to go, crybaby."

"...Sorry," Derek said quickly, his cheeks turning red as he released Stiles from his embrace.

"It's alright," Stiles said, giving Derek a pat on the shoulder and a warm smile. "Now let's go buy that truck."

Derek just nodded, still sniffling a little as he followed Stiles to the check-out counter. Stiles quickly picked up the giant toy truck and set it down on the counter with a loud thud. The clerk just scanned it and shoved it off to the side before holding out his hand for payment.

"That'll be $650, sir. Cash or credit?"

"Cash," Stiles said proudly, taking out his wallet. Before paying, he turned to Derek for a moment- and all of a sudden, the boy burst out laughing. It was a real laugh, a hearty laugh, and just the sound of it made Derek's heart jump.

"...What's so funny?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow at Stiles.

Stiles just shook his head, now laughing quietly to himself. "Well would you look at that," Stiles said cheekily, thrusting a wad of hundred dollar bills into the clerk's hand. "Father and son, reunited again after all these years, all thanks to the hooker you found on the side of the road. God works in mysterious ways, don't he?"


	13. Chapter 13

_"Daddy, look at that one!" Derek shouted, pointing at the beautiful object in front of him. Derek tugged on his father's jacket sleeve and pointed at the bright red bicycle, the one with the black handle bars and white-rimmed wheels. It seemed to glisten, sparkle in the light from the window, and for a moment, Derek wasn't sure if it was even real- it was too perfect to be real. But there it was- completely, 100% real- and right in front of him._

_"You like that one, pal?"  William Hale had asked._

_"Yeah. That one," Derek said, his eyes wide as he stared._

_Across the way, Derek saw another little boy begging his dad for a bicycle similar to his own, only this bicycle was black with white handlebars. The boy begged and begged his father to buy it for him, starting to cry right there in the middle of the aisle, but the boy's father still denied him._

_Derek felt bad for the boy then. His father must be a meanie. Why couldn't he just get his son the bicycle he wanted? It made no sense to him._

_"So can I get it, dad?"  Derek asked, hitting his father with huge, innocent eyes._

_"Well, of course you can, pal," William replied, pulling out a black leather wallet, several gold credit cards sticking out._

_"Anything for you buddy."_

_Derek watched giddily as his father went to go find a clerk to get the bicycle for him, unable to wipe the huge, cartoonish smile off of his face._

_Derek looked over then to see if the other boy was still there, still crying over his mean dad who wouldn't let him have a bike._ _Derek turned his attention back to the aisle to see the boy in his father's arms, holding him tight, the two of them smiling laughing like there was no tomorrow._

_Derek looked away, scowling._

_Weird._

_\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_"Daddy, come watch me!" Derek yelled, walking his bike over to his father, who was currently seated out on the front porch, reading the newspaper._

_"I can see you fine from here," William said, raising his coffee mug to his lips and taking a drink._

_"But daddy," Derek whined. "You promised you'd come over."_

_"I know I did," William said. "But I'm busy right now. Can't I come over in a little while, Derek?"_

_Derek sighed impatiently. He had heard that excuse before. "Well...okay."_

_William sat up a little in his seat then, peering over the top of his newspaper, eyes on Derek._

_"You know I love you, right pal?"_

_Derek nodded furiously, so fast that he was worried his head could pop off._

_"I wouldn't have gotten you that bicycle if I didn't," he said, patting Derek on the shoulder. "Now you go off and play."_

_Derek sighed, moving his bicycle out of the way. Derek walked by his tree swing, suddenly angry at it, and kicked it with all his might._

_There were too many trees, way too many trees._

_There was no way his dad could see him through all those trees._

_Derek took another swing at the tree, this time kicking it so hard that his foot hurt._

_His dad wasn't watching._

_He never was._

_\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_"Ow!" Derek cried, tumbling to the ground and landing violently on the asphalt._

_He had been going fast- probably a little too fast, if he had to admit it- and he hadn't see the crack in the sidewalk until it was too late._

_And now here he was. Sprawled out on the street, his right elbow and knee scraped and bleeding._

_Derek knew he should get out of the road, he knew he really should- but his whole body was stinging._

_Derek grabbed his elbow and inspected it, watching as blood oozed out from the scraped surface of his skin. Derek quickly turned his head away- blood had always made him woozy. Derek didn't like blood._

_"Dad!" Derek shouted, calling out to his father. Luckily, Derek had fallen off of his bike right in front of his house, so at least his dad could hear him._

_"Dad!"_

_"What is it, Derek?"_

_"I fell!" Derek called out, trying to keep his voice steady. He didn't want his dad to hear him cry. Dad always said that Alphas don't cry._

_There was a pause. It was getting windy now- Derek could practically hear it rustling the leaves._

_"Can you get up?"_

_Derek bit his lip, looking around._

_"You can get up by yourself, can't you, pal?"_

_And suddenly Derek was nodding furiously again, blinking back the tears that were suddenly coming to his eyes._

_Alphas don't cry, alpha's don't cry, alpha's don't cry..._

_He could do this._

_He didn't need his dad, he didn't need anybody._

_"Yeah, I'm okay," Derek answered. Not that his dad had asked._

_"There you go, walk it off, pal!" William shouted encouragingly, and Derek suddenly felt sick to his stomach._

_"A big strong alpha like you, I knew you could do it."_

_Derek gulped, trying to ignore the growing pain in his head._

_His dad was right._

_He was an alpha, he could do this. He had to._

_His whole body ached now, and there was a loud pounding in his ears- but he was an alpha._

_Alphas pick themselves up when they fall down. Alphas are strong._

_Derek started to get up slowly, getting himself into a sitting position. From there he had a better view of his knees. He thought just the right one was scraped, but now he could tell they both were, the blood trickling down his legs and staining his white socks._

_Derek blinked, sniffling a little as he picked at the skin around his right knee._

_Right then was when he heard it- the loud honk of the van coming straight for him, the headlights shining onto him, the roar of the engine as the van quickly approached him._

_Not knowing what to do, Derek made one last attempt, one last hail Mary._

_"Dad!"_ _There was no response, so Derek called even louder the next time._

_"Dad!" Derek shouted at the top of his lungs. "Dad, help!"_

_Once again there was no reply, and Derek's heart stopped for a moment- his dad must have gone back in the house._

_He was alone._

_His body shifting into panic mode, Derek felt a surge of adrenaline course through him as he pushed himself up, despite the pain, and dodged the van just in time._

_Derek jumped and threw himself down into the grass on his lawn, landing with a hard thud, scraping his knees even further at the harsh landing._

_Derek could feel the tears coming then, knowing they were inevitable, and somehow managed to pick himself up and start running towards the house. If he had to cry, at least he could do it in the privacy of his own home. He could cry in his room, where nobody cared that he was an Alpha, that he was supposed to be strong._

_Derek limped to the door slowly, and once he got to the front porch, his eyes nearly popped out of his head at what he saw._

_His father was sitting there. Sitting there still, reading the newspaper, drinking his coffee._

_"Well, look who's back!" William said, giving Derek a too-wide smile. "You have fun, pal?"_

_Derek just nodded, nodding like crazy. Maybe his head would pop off this time._

_"You like that bike that daddy got for you?"_

_Derek simply nodded again, finding himself unable to form words._

_"Good, I knew you would."  William said, giving Derek a bright, too-white smile._

_"Only the best for my #1 pal."_

 

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_"-What are you looking at, Derek?"_

Derek was brought out of his flashback by Stiles' gentle voice, and he turned to see Stiles staring, attempting to read the note in his hands.

They had been sitting outside of Anna's house for 20 minutes now, parked outside on the side of the road- and Derek had been careful to park beside a bush so that he couldn't be seen from the window.

"It's nothing," Derek said a little too quickly, folding the paper back up in a matter of seconds.

Stiles just gave Derek a knowing look, his eyes shining brightly in the sunlight. "-But it's not nothing, is it? I can tell by the look on your face. And the fact that you're a really shitty liar."

Derek just sighed. "It's really none of your business," he spat harshly, in no mood for Stiles' games.

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest. "What, you got something to hide, then?"

"What-no!" Derek shouted, shoving the letter into his pocket. "I just- look. I just don't want to talk about it right now, okay? _God-_ not fucking now, Stiles."

Stiles scowled at the obvious pain in his voice, and then a look of realization came over his face.

"-It's that fucking letter again, isn't it?" Stiles asked, his eyes wide. "The one from your dad."

Derek got angry all of a sudden, pulling the note out of his pocket and throwing it in Stiles' direction. "...Here. Read it if you fucking want to, I don't care."

Stiles looked at Derek then, his eyes flooded with concern, before turning his attention to the letter that Derek had tossed to land in his lap. Stiles picked it up, smoothing out the wrinkled edges with his hand, and began reading. The whole time Stiles read silently, Derek looked out the car window. The sky was bright today, clear and blue, and the light practically reflected off of the long green grass in Anna's yard, the bright white paint that coated the outer walls of her home.

"-This place...it's really changed," Derek said softly, almost to himself.

"Yeah?"

"...Yeah," Derek replied, voice still quiet. "I remember when Anna and I were looking to buy a house...this was one of the first places we looked at. I mean- before, it was a total shithole, a real fixer-upper. The paint was all chipped, the yard was a mess, the shingles were a mess...it was awful. But- look at it now."

Stiles nodded, glancing in the direction of Anna's small white ranch. It was a cute little home, with a cherry red painted door and a rocking chair out on the front porch. Homey.

"Yeah, well, it's been a long time," Stiles said.

Derek gulped. "It has."

"Two years, right?"

"Yeah, two years. Two whole years," Derek said, his eyes glued to a toy left out on the front lawn. Stiles traced Derek's eyes to find him staring at a navy blue painted tricycle, complete with training wheels and a basket on the front, leaning up against the front mailbox.

"Stiles?" Derek asked, and Stiles didn't miss the way that Derek's voice cracked.

"Yeah?"

"...I can't do this. I can't fucking do this."

Derek was blinking his eyes rapidly now, fighting back tears that were threatening to surface.

Stiles Stilinski, for the first time in his life, was at a loss for words.

"I should just go," Derek said, reaching over and putting the car in reverse. "I can't- I can't do this to him."

"Derek- stop! Please," Stiles said, reaching over and putting his hand on top of Derek's where it was grasping the steering wheel. Derek froze from the contact, from the warmth of Stiles hand on his own, and before he knew it his foot was on the break pedal.

"Derek," Stiles said, looking at Derek worriedly. "What are you doing? I mean- don't you want to go in there and see your son?"

Derek just squeezed his eyes shut, his throat aching painfully. "I don't- I can't," he stammered. "I just- I can't do it."

"Why not?" Stiles asked, refusing to take his hand off of Derek's. "...Just a second ago, you were ready to go in there. What changed?"

Derek looked down at the floor of the car then, hanging his head as his cheeks burned in shame.

"Have you- have you seen that fuckin' tricycle?" Derek asked, suddenly hysterical, pointing out the navy bike next to the mailbox. "Have you seen it, Stiles?"

"Uh- yeah, I saw it," Stiles replied, eyeing Derek curiously. "Why, what about it?"

"-Well, take a good look at it, Stiles!" Derek said bitterly, shaking his head maniacally. 

"I'm looking at it, you psycho! What's the point?"

"-Alex- he's not gonna care about that fucking green truck anymore, don't you get it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"This was stupid," Derek spat, a bitter tear rolling down his cheek. "I should've fucking known. He has a bicycle now, Stiles. He isn't gonna give a shit about that green truck. He just isn't."

"You don't know that," Stiles said quickly, turning towards the huge box in the back seat. "...Look at that thing! It's every toddler's wet dream, man!"

Derek just shook his head violently, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "You don't get it...when we were bringing out the truck and carrying it to the car, I read the side of the box," Derek said, and the look in his eyes was total devastation. "...You know what it said, Stiles? It said- it said it was for kids age 2-3."

Stiles just narrowed his eyes at him. "So?"

Derek had to choke back a sob. "So- so my son is _5 fucking years old now_ , Stiles His birthday was last week."

Stiles jaw dropped as he struggled to fight back tears of his own. The way Derek's beautiful eyes were flooding with tears...it nearly broke his heart.

"I was wrong before," Derek said, his voice barely a whisper.

"Wrong about what?"

"I said it had been two years since I left Alex," Derek said, lip quivering slightly. "It's been three now. Three fucking years."

Stiles just squeezed his hand tighter over Derek's, leaning into him.

"...And now I can't even give him the one thing he wanted," Derek said pitifully, sniffling. "-I should go. It's- it's too late-"

"What do you mean it's too late?" Stiles asked, his eyes locked on Derek's.

"It's too late," Derek said, his head sinking to his chest in defeat. "I lost my chance, Stiles. He- he's outgrown the truck- he's probably outgrown _me_. My time is up- it's just too late."

Stiles turned to face Derek then, placing his hands on his shoulder and looking deep into Derek's green eyes.

"Listen to me, Derek," Stiles said, giving Derek's shoulder a squeeze, forcing the Alpha to meet his eyes. "Now- look. I've never- I don't know how to deal with a situation like this, I really don't. I've never had a dad. This is all new to me."

Derek struggled to maintain eye contact- Stiles' eyes were just too bright, too clear- it was like staring into the face of the sun.

"-Look. All I know is- you're not doing this for this fucking green truck, okay, Derek? This green truck...it doesn't even matter," Stiles said, slapping the box behind him. "What does matter- what really, _actually_ , matters- is this."

Derek could only watch as Stiles held up the letter that his father had written him in his hands. The one letter he had ever written Derek, the one and only letter Derek had ever received, the letter from 20 years ago- now a wrinkled mess, folded up in Stiles hands.

"...Stiles? What are you talking about?"

"-You're doing it for this, Derek, not some stupid fucking toy truck," Stiles repeated, waving the letter in front of Derek's face, and Derek had to turn his head away. "You're doing this because your dad is dead, Derek, and this shitty piece of paper is all you have left of him, isn't it?"

Derek gulped, nodding, feeling hot tears springing to his eyes.

"You're doing this because 20 years is a long time, sure, but isn't _that_ long of a fucking time, is it?" Stiles asked, giving Derek a meaningful look. "-You're doing this because in 20 years it could be you lying on that fucking slab, who knows? Life is crazy, Derek- you don't know what's gonna happen. You could live till your 100, or you could be dead by tomorrow. And, well, when you're gone- your son isn't gonna give two shits if you couldn't afford to buy him a toy truck when he was a kid. He's not gonna give a shit that you wrote him a piece of shit letter full of bullshit excuses. What's he's gonna remember- _all_ he's going to remember, is if you were there or not."

Stiles looked back at the green truck in the backseat and suddenly punched the box, knocking it onto the floor of the car.

"I hate this piece of crap," Stiles said, watching as the box went tumbling to the ground. "-You don't need this fucking truck, Derek, and you never did. You never needed toys, or games, or money, or anything. All you needed- all your son really wanted- was you. And don't ask me how I know that, Derek- I just fucking _know._ Like I said- I never had a dad. Hell, I barely had a mom. And the only family I did have after she died, my aunt and uncle- they bought me whatever the Hell I want, I mean- they were both lawyers, they did okay. But if you don't think I would trade everything those people ever got me, every fucking toy, every fucking game- for a parents that actually took me to school, and read me stories, and _cared about me_ , then- then you just don't get it."

Derek just stared at Stiles then, mouth open in shock.

"-Now," Stiles said gently, finally lowering his voice. "You're gonna go in there, and you're not even gonna _think_ about that shitty truck, and you're gonna hug your son. And you know what the crazy part is, Derek?"

Derek just looked at him, eyes still shining and wet with tears.

"The crazy thing, Derek, is that your son is not gonna care that you didn't come with a brand new toy truck, or a new bike, or a new videogame, or a fucking college fund, or _any_ of that shit. All that boy is gonna care about, Derek, is that his dad is back, and that he's gonna be there for him."

Derek nodded violently, quivering as Stiles brought his thumb to his cheek and wiped away a tear.

"Now you're going to go in there, Derek," Stiles repeated, looking Derek dead in the eyes, feeling a deep connection like never before. In that moment he knew he had Derek's attention, all of his heart- all of his trust, now and forever. "You're going to go in there because in 50 years, or 20 years, or however fucking long you have on this earth- in 50 years your son is going to remember _you,_ and he's gonna have those memories of you forever, and he's not gonna be left with a shitty letter and a big gaping hole in his heart."

Derek choked back a sob loudly, and Stiles instantly pulled him into his arms.

"You can do this, Derek," Stiles said. "...Do it for your son- and do it for you. I know it's too late for you and your dad, and that sucks, and I'm really fucking sorry. But you have a chance now to break the cycle. _You don't have to be your father."_

Slowly, Stiles felt Derek begin to pull away from him, and when he looked into Derek's eyes, he saw a newfound determination there.

"...You're right."

"Of course I am," Stiles said, a small but cocky grin emerging on his lips.

"You're right, I have to do this."

"-And you know, deep down, that you _can._ I believe in you, because you, Derek, are the greatest, bravest- _strongest_  Alpha I've ever known."

Derek just nodded feverishly, giving Stiles this look that Stiles had never seen before, and before he knew what hit him, Derek was leaning forward, pressing his lips into Stiles' passionately, desperately, like it was something he'd needed for a long time.

The kiss was short, and rushed, and not even very good- but by the time that Derek pulled away, all Stiles could think was that it was all he wanted, all he needed for the rest of his life- and that he never truly wanted it to end.

Derek looked down at Stiles then, who was still frozen, and placed a hand gently on his cheek.

"Thank you, Stiles," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "...I know you think that I was the one who rescued you...Stiles, you _saved_ me. From myself and everything else. And that- that's more than I could've ever asked for."

With one final squeeze of his hand, Derek was running out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him, a confident smile taking over his face.

Stiles could only watch, could only smile, could only feel the ice around his heart melt as he watched Derek walk up, ring the doorbell, and then disappear inside of the door.


	14. Chapter 14

"...Well?" Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow at Derek curiously. "...So?"

"Well _what?"_ Derek asked, giving Stiles an equally confused look in return.

The two of them were in the car now, heading back in the direction of Stiles' home. They were cruising along the highway now, picking up speed, and for a moment, at least to Derek, it felt like they were flying.

He could almost picture it- the two of them, flying over all of the other cars, flying over everything and everyone, higher than ever before.

"...Earth to Derek?"

"Huh? What?"

"I asked you a question. Damn, you're spacy," Stiles said, shaking his head.

"Ask away," Derek said.

"I'm guessing I already know the answer from that geeky little smile that's been plastered on your face for the past 25 miles, but- how did it go with your son?"

Derek's smile only got wider, if that was even possible.

"-We talked."

Stiles looked at Derek like he was insane. "Are you kidding me, man? That's all you have to say? No way. I want details!"

"What kind of details?"

"I don't know- everything!" Stiles shouted, exasperated. "Like- what did you guys talk about? What's going on with you two? How about the baby mama? Come on, Derek!"

Derek kept his gaze focused on the road, on the blue sky ahead of him. "Anna is doing well, she's working full time now- and you know I hate the term 'baby mama."

"Yeah, yeah. So how's Alex?"

Derek's eyes went soft, and Stiles' swore he saw Derek's lip quiver just slightly.

"He's- he's amazing," Derek said reverently, awestricken, as though he was talking about God himself and not a 4 year old boy.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Derek replied, a far-off look in his eye. "He's- uh- I didn't know what to expect when I went to see him, but he's- he's so smart, Stiles. And _funny._ God, he's really- he's really changed."

"Yeah, well- he grew up, Derek," Stiles said, looking at Derek softly. "That's kind of what kids do."

"...I just can't believe it," Derek said, shaking his head. "When I left, he was practically still a baby. Now- now he's so-"

All of a sudden Derek couldn't finish his sentence, and Stiles quickly placed a hand on his shoulder.

"-But- but anyway," he said, attempting to regain control of himself. Derek quickly sat up straighter in his seat, clearing his throat. " Anyway- Anna said that I can come up and stay near them next week- I'll probably just get a hotel nearby. I can spend the week with Alex, get to know him- slowly, of course- and if that goes well, Anna said I can take him one weekend next month."

"...Wow," Stiles said. "That's incredible, man. That's- that's just- man. I'm just...would it sound crazy if I told you that I'm really, _really_ fucking happy for you?"

Derek watched as Stiles looked at him with those wide, innocent eyes, lip quivering, attempting to smile.

A sudden rush of sadness ran through him, hitting him like a truck.

Their little escapade, road trip, whatever you want to call it....it was over. Their journey was coming to an end.

It was ending, and Derek was about to drop off Stiles in whatever crappy ghetto whorehouse he lived in, and then Stiles would continue his life just like before; jerking off strangers for money, being treated like human garbage.

Derek's gut wrenched at the thought of Stiles doing this forever, for the rest of his life. Always in danger, barely surviving, barely living.

Always an object, always something to be used, always an _omega._ Always less than. 

Derek shook his head violently then, trying to shake the images from his mind, because _no fucking way_ was that going to happen.

Before he even knew what he was saying, the sentence had come flying out of Derek's mouth, fast and jumbled.

"Stiles- you wanna come work for me?"

 Stiles turned to Derek then, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. " _What_?"

Derek blushed instantly, feeling like an idiot. It was too late to take it back now- Derek needed to think of something, and fast.

All of a sudden, the answer came to Derek, hitting him like a ton of bricks, and he could practically feel the lightbulbs going off in his head.

"Yeah," Derek said, the realization fully dawning on him. "You should come work with me. We need delivery assistants and I could use someone to come with me and help unloading the packages."

Stiles' face scrunched up in a funny way, and he looked like he was about to laugh at Derek, right in his face.

"You want me to be a _truck driver_ _?"_

Derek shrugged, biting his lip. "It's better than doing what your doing now, isn't it?"

Stiles had to look away, and Derek felt instantly shitty.

"I guess," Stiles said quietly. "But- like- doesn't it suck?"

Derek almost bust out laughing at that one because, well- of all the omegas he knew, absolutely none of them would've been brazen enough to come out with a statement like that.

Not that Stiles had ever been a typical omega- not that Stiles had ever been just 'average' at all.

Stiles, he figured, was one of a kind. Different.

_Special_.

Derek looked at Stiles again, who was pouting, crossing his arms, and on anyone else, Derek thought it would just look bratty. Stiles, however, looked beautiful. No matter what he did, he was always, always beautiful.

"-Damn, it totally sucks, doesn't it?"

Derek snapped out of his Stiles-related daydream, coming back to earth.

_Did it suck?_

For the first time in his life, Derek really thought about it; considered if he really, actually liked his job. Not if it was considered a good 'Alpha job', not if it allowed him to earn enough to be a 'provider'. The only thing he thought about is if _he_ liked it; if it made him happy.

"...I don't know...I guess I kind of like it," Derek said easily, a small, genuine smile gracing his lips. "I mean- you get to travel all over the country, just driving around....kind of like one giant, year round road trip."

Derek couldn't read Stiles' expression for a moment, and then suddenly the boy broke out into a huge, infectious smile.

"A road trip, huh?" Stiles asked, grinning at Derek, his smile blindingly bright. "Now you're talking."

"Plus, if you come with me, I might even let you sing, you know, on occasion." 

Stiles just laughed, the sound music to Derek's ears. "You drive a hard bargain, Derek Hale."

Derek nodded and looked over to Stiles, his eyes hopeful. "So you'll do it?"

Stiles just looked up at the sky, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "...Alright. I'm in. But you have to do something for me first."

Derek found himself nodding in agreement before he even knew what he was agreeing to. "Of course. What do you need?"

Stiles looked down at the ground, clasping his hands together. "-I need you to drive me somewhere. Before you drop me off at my place."

"Sure, Stiles. Where do you need to go?"

"-It's not that far from here," Stiles said, his voice suddenly quiet. "It's not out of your way or anything..."

"-Stiles, I've driven you literally _across the fricken country_ ," Derek said, smirking at him. "Believe me when I say there's literally nowhere I wouldn't go with you."

Stiles blushed a deep pink, blinking back tears, because Derek had no right to be that fucking perfect. He really didn't.

"Man, I just...I hate to drag you there," Stiles said, twiddling his thumbs awkwardly. "It's not exactly the happiest place on earth..."

"-Wait, you mean we're _not_ going to Disney Land?" Derek asked sarcastically. "Well, gee, Stiles, I had no idea-"

"-You know what I mean, you douche," Stiles said harshly. "I just- I don't want to make you come with me. It's kind of a depressing place and- I don't know. You really don't have to. Forget I said anything."

Derek turned to Stiles than, placing a hand on his knee.

"What if I said I _wanted_ to come?"

Stiles just narrowed his eyes. "Why the Hell would you want to? I mean-haven't you had enough of me already? Aren't you tired of hauling around my sorry ass?"

Derek waited to say what he had to say, what he _needed_ to say, until he was sure Stiles' beautiful brown eyes were on him.

"Stiles," he began clearing his throat. "...I don't care where you're going, what you're doing...no matter where you end up, I'm going to be right there with you."

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"Right over here, this way," Stiles called over his shoulder.

They were walking up a steep hill, practically a 90 degree angle, and Derek was struggling to keep up. Derek took a deep, heaving breath before stomping his foot into the earth and pulling himself up.

"You see it?" Derek asked, still panting. Stiles had already reached his destination, apparently, judging by the way he was just standing there, staring off at something in the distance that Derek couldn't see.

"Yeah, you're almost there, slowpoke. Just a few more steps."

"You know I have asthma, you douchebag."

"Should've brought your inhaler, asswipe."

Derek just smirked at that one, feeling the competitive fire igniting in chest. Suddenly the adrenaline hit him and he was pulling himself up all the way, finally climbing over the hill, and all of a sudden he was standing there, next to Stiles, eyes on the one thing Stiles had come all this way to see.

_A gravestone._

It was a gravestone.

It was just a typical gravestone, surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of other gravestones just like it, but for some reason it just stood out. It was like there was just _something_ about it, some brightness surrounding it, some light.

Derek watched as Stiles approached it slowly, cautiously, like he wasn't quite sure of himself. The entire time, his eyes were glued to that stone.

The name on the stone: Rebecca Grace Stilinski.

 “- So this is where it all started huh?" Derek said, saying anything to break the silence. "The great and magnificent life of Stiles Stilinski.”

"...Yeah," Stiles said, his voice distant, his eyes still completely focused on the grave. "...great and magnificent. Right."

The silence continued then, suffocating and all-consuming. Derek just watched Stiles stare blankly at the headstone, his focus unwavering, his mouth a tight line.

Derek didn't think he could take the silence anymore, about to beg Stiles to say something, _anything-_ and only then did Stiles speak up.

“Did I ever show you a photo of my mother?”

Derek gulped, shifting back and forth on his feet. "I don't think so."

"-Here," Stiles said, pulling out his wallet suddenly, the same wallet he had slammed down on the counter at the Toys R Us.

Inside were two pictures- one of a stunningly beautiful, dark-haired older alpha woman, maybe in her 40s- _Sophia,_ Derek's brain supplied.

The other was of a petite omega, a tiny little thing, with long blonde hair and brown eyes. In the picture, she was sitting outside on a park bench, surrounded by trees, flowers, and the greenest grass Derek had ever seen. Sitting next to her, with his arms around her, was a young boy; a toddler with dark hair, bright brown eyes and a beautiful, beautiful smile.

"...This is your mother?"

"Yeah," Stiles said, nodding furiously. "Uh- that's her."

Derek paused, taking a second to really examine the photo, from the green grass to the cloudless sky to the smiling faces staring back at him.

"...She was beautiful," Derek said, because it was all he could say, and because it was true.

Stiles seemed to freeze then, his shoulders becoming rigid, his face tense and teeth clenched.

"-People say I look like her," Stiles said quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

Derek took another look at the photo, really concentrating on the faces, on his mother's smile.

"-I used to think so, too," Stiles said, looking down at his hands, removing his gaze from the gravestone for the first time. "-But now, I don't think I do. Not anymore."

Derek took one last look at the photo then, staring at it with the most intense concentration that he had ever mustered up in his life. He looked at Stiles' mother, her eyes shining brightly, and Stiles- his toothy grin incredibly wide, so wide that he could see where his baby teeth had fallen out; two big gaps where his two front teeth had been.

Derek's heart ached in his chest and suddenly he wanted to tear the picture to shreds, because it was a fucking _lie,_ it really was.

But it was also beautiful. Really, really fucking beautiful.

Derek looked at the two faces again, two people, two souls forever haunted, forever controlled by their past.

Two people who were dealt a shitty hand in the old game of life; two people who never really had a chance.

"You have the same eyes," Derek whispered, his voice almost drowned out by the whistling wind.

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut then, keeping them closed for a moment, and when he opened them his gaze immediately fell on the picture, on his mother's face, on her bright eyes and captivating smile.

"Yeah," he said, his voice breaking just slightly. "Yeah, we do."

Stiles went quiet again, and there was no sound but the wind in the stillness of the cemetery. Stiles and Derek just stood there together, staring at the gravestone as if it would cause something to happen. At some point Derek's hand had wandered over to grab Stiles', and at some point Stiles let it.

After a few minutes, Stiles cleared his throat, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"...Mind if I have a second alone with her?"

Derek just gave Stiles' hand one last squeeze before separating.

"Take all the time that you need."

Stiles watched Derek walk away for a moment, watching as Derek went to sit and rest on a nearby bench, and then he turned back to the grave. His mother's grave.

Stiles looked around uncomfortably, shoving his hands into his pockets. It took him a moment before he could face her again, his eyes finally settling on the cold, gray stone.

_Rebecca Grace Stilinski._

_Mom._

He waited for the familiar wave of anger to come over him; the urge to stomp and dance and spit on her grave. He'd often dreamed of this moment in the past; dreamed of finally telling her off for all the shit she put him through when he was a kid; for all of the days he never felt safe, for all of the nights he cried himself to sleep.

The anger never came.

Stiles waited and waited, but all he felt was...nothing. He felt nothing, but for the first time in his life, he understood.

He looked down at his mother's gravestone then, faded memories dancing through his head, and for the first time she wasn't a whore or a prostitute or a slut.

She was his mom. She was human, and she made mistakes- but at the end of the day, she did what she did because she _needed_ to. She did it because she was an omega born into a world where she was not enough, would never be enough, and she wanted _more._

That much, Stiles understood.

Stiles took a deep breath, wringing his hands together.

"I'm not really talking to a gravestone like a fucking lunatic, am I?" Stiles muttered, placing a hand on his forehead.

The only reply Stiles got was the wind roaring through the trees, and for a moment it felt like it was circling Stiles like a storm. For a moment, he thought he heard something, thought he heard a voice, but it was gone as quickly as it came. 

Stiles bit his lip, gulping, and took another step towards his mother's grave.

"....I know I've given you a lot of shit over the years, blamed you for almost everything," Stiles said, taking a moment to wipe a tear from his eye. Slowly, Stiles knelt down so that he was staring directly at his mother's grave, and for a moment they were on the same level, eye to eye.

"It wasn't your fault," Stiles whispered to the ground, to Rebecca, to his mom. "...It wasn't your fault, and it wasn't mine."

Stiles reached into his pocket then, and ever so gently placed down one solitary rose before walking away, the sun shining brightly in the distance.

The rose was slightly wilted, the stem was bent in more than a few places. It was the most vibrant, brilliant red that Stiles had ever seen.

As Stiles walked towards Derek, allowing himself to be enveloped in his arms, the wind finally stopped, the invisible storm coming to a final end.

 

Only 5 miles left to go.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"I can't believe I found the one song you like and it's fucking _this_ one _."_

They were back in Derek's town now, just a few minutes away from his neighborhood.

1 mile left to go.

Stiles was in the passenger's seat, smiling like a madman as he stared down at his iPod. Derek was in the driver's seat, cruising down the back roads, driving slower than he had ever driven in his life. For the first time, he was driving _under_ the speed limit, rolling the windows down, enjoying the feeling of the wind in his hair and sunshine on his face.

"-So you really, actually _like_ this song?" Stiles asked incredulously. "I can't fucking believe it."

Derek just turned to Stiles, a devious smirk on his face. "Yeah well, I don't just like it, Stiles. I fucking _love_ it."

Stiles just shook his head. "You're crazy, man."

"This song is a _classic_ , Stiles," Derek said, starting to pout. "-Much better than your ridiculous rap music-"

"Shhh- here comes the good part." Stiles said suddenly, turning to Derek. Derek couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled in the light- it was almost like magic. "Sing with me?"

Stiles met Derek eyes then, and all Derek could do was say _yes_.

Why the Hell not?

"Sure...what the Hell," Derek said, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Wait- you're actually gonna sing with me?"

"...Some say I have the voice of an angel," Derek said, giving Stiles a cheesy grin.

"-Don't use my own line against me, you jackass."

"Just play the damn song, Stiles," Derek said.

"Of course," Stiles said, finding the button on his iPod and pressing play. "Anything for you, dear Derek."

Stiles' had hooked up his iPod to Derek's car, and suddenly the music came on, louder than ever before, blaring through the car's speakers.

Derek and Stiles just sat and listened during the first verse of the song, waiting for the right moment, and when the chorus finally came on, they both took a breath, felt the music coursing through them, opened their mouths, their hearts, and _sang._

 

_"Although we've come_

_To the end of the road_

_Still I can't let go_

_It's unnatural_

_You belong to me_

_I belong to you"_

 

On the last line, Derek pulled Stiles close to him, taking his face in his hand, stroking his cheek. He whispered it in Stiles ear, over and over again, until he knew that Stiles would never, ever forget it.

 

_You belong to me ,_ _I belong to you._

 

A moment later, Derek pulled up outside of his house, looking the same and yet so _different_ , and got up out of his car, gesturing for Stiles to follow him in. Stiles got up, walking in right by his side.

 

_0 miles left to go._

 

_Home._


End file.
